Exposed to Hermione
by xcst
Summary: Let your shield down and i'll let mine.
1. Exposed to Hermione

People do not understand what their limits are. They do not understand that if you live in a shiny little spot, isolated from the rest in the world that doesn't mean there's no evil out there.

I always chose to isolate myself from the world, keep my head deep in the books and live in my own happy world, where knowledge meant everything and the only things that made me smile were cookies and literature.

When I first entered school things got a little odd, I started to make friends, to feel better, even to feel loved. My two best friends kept saying that they loved me and in the end I started to believe that. What's more, as the years went by I started having more and more friends, but none of them were actually interested by my qualities but by my intellectual capacity.

When I first decided I was going to fight in the war that had just started I felt a joy and a thrill that I cannot possibly describe in words. Things were not that simple for me, I was used to live my life in a corner, hidden from the rest of the world, but as days went by I understood that I had involved myself in the war more than I had wanted from the beginning.

I had begun as a planner, making that strategy of every battle, which consequently was won kudos to my tactics. Dumbledore understood that I had a brilliant mind and started training my body so it became as strong as my intellect was. After months and months of training in the Forbidden Forest I was able to defend myself physically, and why lie, I was in a pretty good shape.

During the final battle, Voldemort won. It wasn't unexpected; it was actually carless from our side to think that a 18 year old boy can beat a talented and powerful magician such as Tom Riddle.

Then hell began.

Hell was not something you saw in fairytales, it wasn't like being tortured with hot wax and lava, that's for little children.

Voldemort had a different plan for us all, he wanted to break us, play with our mind and soul. Of course, for the world of magic something as trivial as physical torture was not enough. No, they had to break our spirit, transform us into soldiers that had no will. They wanted to make us obey Voldemort, to obey everything he said without having an opinion.

When I was first captured I experienced some spells that I didn't even know it existed. I was still a bit naïve, thinking that they will never hurt me. But they did, and that was something I wouldn't wish even for my worst enemy to experience. They first captured me on the battlefield and then dragged me into a cell in the basement of Voldemort's castle. Yes, he had a castle that we weren't aware of and it was something twice as big as Hogwarts. From my estimation he had a whole floor for prisoners, we were organized by rank, status. So was our torture programme.

Death Eaters used to have fun on our count; we served tables and endured crude jokes about us, the Mudbloods. None of them actually knew that I was Potter's little Mudblood – like some in school would call me. I tried to keep this away from the world as much as possible, it was better for me. I heard someday they captured a certain Lavander Brown that knew Harry Potter. There were rumors that they Crucio-ed her for three days in a row just because she was occasionally chatting with Harry. I didn't want to imagine what they would do to me, being his best friend some that amount of years.

In a war you develop an instinct of self-preservation, trying to guard your life and your body with any price. I used some wandless spells to manipulate everybody in the room I was in to believe that I am a certain Anastasia Klaus, an exchange student that was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got caught in the middle of a war. In fact, I wasn't lying at all. I was at the wrong time in the wrong place, my whole life had changed without my consent. The people surrounding me died and I was left alone, in a dark rusty old room with other 20 or 30 girls, craving for food. Bless Snape for training me good, I was able to resist without food long enough to gain strength and conjure something in my stomach with my inner magic. It was the instinct of survival – that's what I told the others when they asked me why weren't I hungry, why wasn't I complaining.

Weird thing though, starvation and despair didn't make me go crazy. I stood up, held my head high. The ones that were lucky enough to survive were taken in a place for slaves, they told us that we will be bought for some amounts of money and "have the honor " to serve a pureblood family.

I mentally cursed them. I was there, at the salve house for two straight weeks.

After those weeks everything started to get more sense, I started creating a bond with the other girls there – or the ones who stayed there. It was like a pattern – if they were half-bloods they would easily get "adopted" because some pureblood families had a certain standard: to keep the blood of their slaves as pure as they could.

As for me, I believe that being a mudlblood had its advantages. I didn't get much food, or water whatsoever but I made new "friends". I got to know a girl named Elena very well, she said she was a squib and attended BeauxBatons because her parents wanted her to receive a magical education. It looked like a lie at first, she had absolutely no French accent but after a while I realized that she was a very smart person and her descendents were English. If I were go to into details, like torture, pain and endless amounts of Crucio it would be pointless – anyone can imagine that being a slave is not exactly staying for an endless period in a luxury spa resort.

The days came and went by, the virtual life I created for myself was not bad at all. I was having endless conversations with Elena on political subjects.

One day, I was sleeping on the rough floor – which was somehow a miracle because even if I wasn't doing anything I didn't get too much sleep in there, only a few hours once in a while. The floor was cold and it smelt like something old. I couldn't define the scent, but I could sense the amount of dark magic that was used in that room – the hundred thousands of repeated crucios on different persons. The humidity was very high in the atmosphere, making my lungs beg for fresh air, everything that didn't have the consistence of heavy smoke. I slowly opened my eyes, letting my lashes part slightly in order to adjust the small amount of light that was there.

It was too quiet, usually the girls would cry and wipe and recall old memories from the happy times. I told them it was useless – it was better for them to acknowledge reality, they weren't going to live the happy days again too soon, when Voldemort will retreat his army and love mudbloods and squibs the earth poles will reverse.

There was absolutely no sound around me except for the water drops that made a small echo while hitting the walls. I believed that it was water, even if some would claim that it was blood that condensed and made its way to the walls.

Again, it was too quiet. The quietness revolved around me and the walls seemed smaller, closer to me. The door cracked silently and a little beam of light caressed my face. It wasn't the ordinary type of light that you see here – the reddish hot flame light – no, it was actual light from the sun. Something was no right here, from my calculus – which was always right – I managed to place our room somewhere underground, deep, so no one would hear our screams. The sun beam could only get here through an enchanted window, and I doubt that the Death Eaters made this wonderful and uninterested gesture towards us.

I could easily distinguish two silhouettes approaching me but since my eyes were far to be accustomed with natural light there was no way for me to make out their faces. They were near me, I was still on the floor, trying to convince myself that this is not a dream, this is not happening. Even when they approached me I still could not believe my eyes – I hadn't seen a normal person for some time now except from the girls I shared the "dormitory" with.

One of the men approached me and addressed me. His figured seemed familiar and I immediately made some metal connections to realize that it was the Death Eater that put me into the "Dormitory" in the first place. So he was the one that made me a slave, the chief of the others that sometimes gave us food.

"Miss Klaus – or should I say Granger…" The man said in a mocking tone.

My blood froze. My heart started hyperventilating. That was not happening to me, my cover was blown. But by who?

"Yes." I answered with a straight face, trying to cover any shade of fear. Despite my position I still tried to maintain some shreds of dignity.

"You've been bought. I might say, interesting way of preserving yourself here, inventing a new name and a new personality. But long story short, it is not my place to punish you now for your let's say… inadequate behavior – playing mind games with The Dark Lord's servants. I must of course introduce you to your new master, Mister Malfoy?"

If before I was hyperventilating, not my heart has gone absolutely mad, my face was flushed and I could barely control my tear-ducts not to cry.

The man who stood behind slowly approached, his dark silhouette becoming more and more imposing. His walk was aristocratic, as well as his whole being. The tall, blonde boy from my childhood, the one that verbally tortured me for so many years, trying to destroy my self esteem and my inner confidence. He was there, watching me as If he owned me, and he did.

"Good morning Granger. Your worst nightmare has just begun. Hold on tight because your life will be a rollercoaster. " Draco smiled wickedly at me and then with a simple sleep spell I was sent into the blissful world of dreams.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I woke up from a restful sleep, It had been a long time since I actually slept and felt good when waking up. I was on something that looked like a bed, it was improvised, of course, but it was better than a stone floor.

He was towering above me, his perfect stature completed by his trademark smirk, watching me while I was sleeping. I knew there was nothing good expecting me, some things are better left unsaid so I turned my back to him and tried to drift in another session of sleep. He didn't have the same plans, anyway.

"Wake up sleeping beauty. You're on" Draco's voice sounded in my ears. I knew he was up to no good, he never is.

"What do you mean?" It was strange, we were talking as if we were good friends, chatting.

"Get up!" His voice was imposing, seems that the sweetie pie mood vanished quickly.

He grabbed my hand and threw me against a wall. His whole body weight was against mine, I literally couldn't move a muscle.

"You do not get to address me. I will tell you a set of rules and if you choose to disobey one of them the consequences would not be pleasant at all. From now on you will address me as "master" and you will not be the one who talks first. You answer every time you are called and do not try to start a conversation. You are nothing here, just a slave and your job is the one that must be the most important thing in your life now because it will be the only thing that keeps you alive. You are not allowed to speak with anyone in the house. Your clothes will be provided for you soon. You do not get to walk out of the room you are assigned in and you are not allowed to wander along the corridors of the manor. From now on, you are not Hermione Granger, but just a servant. Did I make myself understood?"

Every muscle in my body was filled with fear, I had no idea what's going to be next. My whole future and life depended on Draco Malfoy's will. He released me from his grip, and I fell down to the ground as if no muscle in my body worked. My bones must have been fractured because I felt a strong pain in my legs.

"Get up mudblood". Malfoy had his wand at my neck, threatening my life. I didn't move. I couldn't move. I was paralyzed.

"I can't" was everything I could murmur before anything went blank. He gave me a strong dose of crucio that made all my bones seem to get out of my body, through my skin. I was filled with blood; my whole face was all scarlet red. My hair was an undefined bum of blood, mud and curls. My vision started to get blurry, I couldn't distinguish the shapes of the things anymore. Then everything went blank.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My vision was blurry again, I was feeling like I just woke up from a weird dream, everything surrounding me was not what I was used to see. I was in a room without windows, sitting on a rough bed. Then, suddenly, everything got back to me. I understood where I was, what I was doing there. Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin cunning prick claimed that he owned me.

I heard someone enter the door and I focused my whole strength to get up and try to figure it out who it was. As far as I could see there was a young girl who was carrying a huge bag of potions on one shoulder. She resembled a healer, but that didn't make much sense: Why would Malfoy heal me? Was that some twisted kind of torture? To heal me and then break me again?

"Hello dear, I'm healer Blamey, I'm here to check up all your wounds. Do not bother to speak, we need all your power." So I was right, the girl was a healer. I followed her advice and let her heal me, muttering a silent "Thank you" when she was done. I must admit, she was incredibly talented and made an incredible job, I felt better than ever, I could walk I was clean and was looking better than ever. I was a wonderful sensation, to have your old self back just for a small amount of time.

The door cracked again and Malfoy entered the room, while I was too busy smiling and looking at my old body.

"Don't get too excited mudblood, you were only repaired because the Dark Lord doesn't like leftovers. Tonight will be a party and you are my present for My Lord. Enjoy the health you have, it won't last for long. With that, Malfoy closed the door."

Did I hear it right? I was a gift? My blood status was so low that I couldn't even be qualified as a person in this new world focused around darkness? I started to get sick, I wanted to cry, cry all my tears out. I needed strength, I needed anything that could help me endure what was next.

Two hours later someone opened the door of my cell again. It was a Death Eater bringing me food. He was smiling at me wickedly, something was not right. I felt that they were trying to feed me before my death, the last meal of my life. I accepted the food and ate it, it tasted wonderfully.

"Who are you?" I approached the Death Eater.

"Devon Parkinson." He said.

"Oh you must be Pansy's relative. What a wonderful way to meet you" I said. I approached him carefully, smiling seductively. You could literally see the irony in my movements.

"Yes, I am her cousin" I smiled. The moron didn't see that during our little chattering I stole his wand. I had to get out of there, I just had.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My attempt failed. I didn't get too far because the Death Eaters captured me too soon. Instead of being punished and crucio-ed to the core, I was dragged in a huge room full with black-hooded man. That was not what I was expecting. The room was enormous, decorated with thousands of green and silver crystals. They were all gathered in a circle, and it in middle of it you could see a dark black throne, without an occupant. Everything indicated the fact that Voldemort will be here soon.

Everything happened in a moment. A candle fell to the floor, lightning a huge circle around the throne. Some servants started screaming at the fact and almost immediately they were sent to the eternal sleep with the killing curse. All the Death Eaters bowed down, their masks reaching the floor. Lucius and Draco Malfoy were standing near the throne, waiting for their king to arrive. As for me, I was in a corner, held by Dolohov and Yaxley, because they decided to sent someone more worthy to look after me. I was the brains of the trio after all.

The room started getting dark. The only sources of light were the little crystals which were scattering the light from the fire circle. I thought it was only my imagination but it started getting cold, I started sensing fear, repulsion and terror. My soul has lost its balance, I wanted to run, far away, in the shadows.

Voldermort apparated directly on his huge throne. He had an imposing stature, standing almost nonchalantly on that throne, looking bored but at the same time ready to kill. I had no idea what was next. He was wearing all black – a black cloak, black leather gloves and black robes. He looked untouchable, unobtainable. No idea everybody served him without second thoughts. His eyes started scanning the room, looking almost bored. He stopped looking at Devon, the little Death Eater that I tricked.

"You're worthless." He stated, and with a quick swirl of the wand he killed him, without any shred of doubt.

Nobody in the room moved a muscle. His gaze stopped over me. His red eyes were piercing me, seeing through my mind, soul, and body. I didn't do anything to stop him, I would be worthless. Any occulmancy shield I would try to set against him would make him laugh. So I held my ground, and let his gaze pierce me.

"Granger. Hermione Granger." He stated. I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough to provoke him, and even if I was, I would think twice.

"Good thinking, Granger." He said in response to my thoughts. He was reading my mind, but despite those cruel, red eyes, I could see that he had an inner satisfaction: despite my fear, my mind wasn't lead by terror when I was looking at him, it was _admiration. _I admired him for his power and strength. I admired him for being so manipulative and cold blooded.

"Take Granger to my quarters at the Castle." He nodded to Dolohov. Dolohov bowed and send a sleeping curse at me. Slowly, they were carrying my body while my being was resting in a peaceful sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I woke up dizzy in a four poster bed. That was getting better and better, I got more sleep in almost a day spent with the Death Eaters than in 6 months of war. I lifted my head easily and looked over the room. Voldermort was sitting in a huge chair, looking at me. The room was exquisitely decorated, the man had good taste.

"Why are you looking at me?" I asked him.

A wave of pain went through my body. It was Crucio indeed, but the most powerful Crucio I ever experienced in my life. Bellatrix's Crucio didn't even get near the intensity of this one. A thousand knives when into my body without touching my heart. I was a new level of torture, something that would make even the gods scream. I bit my tongue, trying not to scream, blood filling my mouth. After what seemed to be years of pain he lifted the curse.

"You do not get to address like that, pet. From now on, you are my personal servant who will be cleaning my private quarters. You were brought here because your mind seemed a waste to clean after hippogriffs."

I didn't move a muscle. I couldn't say anything, I couldn't move.

"Bow before your Master" Voldermort stated, with his eyes full of hatred.

"Never" I replied.

A new wave of crucio followed. And another, and another, and another. I couldn't focus on anything but pain, I tried to recall some memories but my whole mind was blocked on the intense pain that was flowing through my body.

"Bow" He said again, with another Crucio.

"I. Will. Not." I was so weak, my mind wasn't working anymore. My legs started to face, my strength was long gone. I fell to the ground, my face in direct contact with the floor.

"Very good, pet."

With one flick of the wand he lifted me off floor and placed me on a rug, near his bed.

"This will be your bed from now on. This is where you sleep. You will eat when I allow you to eat. There will be someone who will instruct you with your chores here soon". He left the room with a pop.

A little girl entered soon and gave me a pain-relieving potion. She told me that I was to clean his room including the bathroom every day, and I was to serve his food also. I chose to submit. It was better than to endure that crucio over and over again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A week passed by. And then a month. Voldemort was not around often, I didn't see him nearly as much as I thought at the beginning. Sometimes he used to come with random girls, rape them and then made me dispose of their bodies. I was repulsed but I somehow felt lucky because I wasn't one of them… yet. I did my chores perfectly, as I used to do everything in my old life.

One particular evening, he was lying carelessly on the bed, reading an old, rusty book. I was standing on the rug, looking aimlessly at the fire burning soundly in the chimney. I discovered that I was fascinated over the way the flames mend, making complex and fascinating patterns. It was like magic, hard to define but still existent, a part of our lives.

A crucio hit my back. I didn't know how, why, and when but it always got round me like this, he was expecting something from me.

"Come" He motioned with his hand.

I lifted off the floor and went near him.

"Tell me what you know about me"

I was amazed for a second, he addressed me like I was a human being. I didn't know if I was to answer or not, but he quickly vanished the idea out of my head.

"Don't make me repeat." He stated.

"What I know about what part of you?" I answered. After so many crucio I still refused to call him "My Lord". He actually admired my courage. I expected the adjacent crucio but it never came.

"About my appearance." He said.

I stood a couple seconds thinking. I lifted off the ground, walking towards him.

"If I may." I asked him shyly.

"You may".

I was standing in front of him, on my knees. I slowly lifted my hand to his face, touching it. Then, I pushed into his flesh, and entered extremely easily.

"It's a glamour. This look, is a glamour charm, your body is perfectly preserved as in your twenties and you're hiding it under a glamour charm".

For a watcher the scene looked somehow romantic, a girl caressing the cheek of a man, when in fact, it was the opposite. I was full of fear and despair but I chose to hid it. The bloody Gryffindor courage.

He almost smile, took his want and put it to his temple. The glamour charm was off, and what I saw under it scared and amazed me at the same time. Underneath the snake appearance Voldemort chose to show to the world lay the face and the body of a young Tom Riddle. He was tall, imposing. His hair was jet black and his eyes were midnight blue. His nose was perfectly contoured, tracing patterns to two medium-size lips, beautifully colored. He was pale, paler than the usual human but in spite of that, his skin had a shimmering olive color. His deep black perfect eyelashes were making his look intense, sending me shivers down my spine. He was looking at me, straight faced, contemplating me. The being in front of me was an epitome of perfection, flowing through every pore of his body. He had lean musculature, perfectly toned body – you could see the pattern of his muscles through his perfectly tailored robes. The corner of his mouth moved into a charming smirk, but wicked whatsoever.

"Very good Miss Granger." He smirked towards me. "Crucio".

During the unforgivable curse I didn't feel the pain as I used to. I was contemplating his face, his gaze, his midnight blue eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After a week he started spending more and more time in his room – the room I was to clean. He slept there more often, and he didn't use his glamour around me. I could see him everyday being the 20-year-old Tom Riddle, something I would have never guessed.

Weekes passed by, the Crucio-es were as often as ever, making me feel unimaginable pain every time. After a while, his visits to his lair begun to be shorter. He didn't spent much time in his room, and if I didn't know better, I thought he was avoiding me.

I noticed that once upon a time he was writing something in a leather-covered notebook. Sometime he would read from it, spending hours and hours thinking afterwards. Sometimes he would glance at me, when he thought I wasn't looking and then quickly shifted his view. I needed to know what was there, and one day, the curiosity overtook me. I waited for him to go on a mission and when I was completely certain that he had left, I took the notebook and opened it.

It was old, full of dark magic. The pages were almost yellow from time. It may have been some decades old, but it was neatly preserved. On the first page, I could see written with an impeccable calligraphy "The Diary of T. M. Riddle. January,1958". He had a diary, I couldn't believe my eyes. I didn't want to read it at first, but of course, I couldn't stand up to my curiosity. I opened around it s last pages, the diary had over 10 000 entries, it was magically enchanted to look smaller. It read:

"_16 Oct. 2009_

_Lucius and Draco offered me Potter's Mudblood Granger. The girl has a strength and a will that reminds me of myself, of the glory times in Hogwarts when I was stubborn and determined, just like her. I chose her to be my house slave because I wanted to study her, to understand her mind and its capacities. The mudblood may have the potential of getting useful."_

I flipped the page, wanting more. It was like entering his mind, places when nobody has every been.

"_23 Oct. 2009_

_The mudblood was the only one that actually saw that I was wearing a glamour charm over my face, and moreover, I let her see my real face. He was looking at me with admiration, contemplating my every feature. Her big brown eyes were scanning and memorizing everything about me, and for the first time in ages I felt exposed. Exposed to Hermione."_

"_26 Oct. 2009._

_I was watching her today, as I always do. I like studying her, she is a fascinating creature. I like the way that she looks at the fire, she likes to see the flames merging into something bigger and more powerful. I didn't notice before but her plain face has so much emotion in it, it shows innocence. She looks so innocent sometimes that she actually begs to be broken. Every time I use crucio I have the impression that she will break, that she will cry, but she never does. She endures every shred of pain I give to her without screaming, while looking me in the eyes. Her dark brown curly hair comes to her face from time to time, and I crucio her again, just to make her move and reveal her face. However, her gaze holds a lot of intensity, something I would call the oldest aphrodisiac in the world: knowledge."_

There I was, reading from Tom Riddle's journal, where he was describing me. All that mystery, that whole person was divulged to me, making me understand everything. Every crucio, every shred of pain, every hidden gaze. I quickly hid every trace of my being there, in the diary and I waited for him to come back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I waited for him to come back. I wanted to provoke him, I wanted to see how far he could go. I didn't want to spend my whole life doing the chores in his room, and if that cost my life I didn't care.

He gracefully entered the room. He took his glamour off and threw his robes to the ground. He motioned to me to grab them but I didn't move.

"No." I said. I was actually amazed by my strength.

"Crucio" He cursed me.

"Protego" I screamed, with all my strength. I was using wandless magic, something he wasn't aware that I could do. The red light of the crucio went back at him. He gracefully avoided it.

"Crucio" He cursed me again. He looked visibly angry. I smiled.

"Protego!" The red light changed his way again. "Expelliarmus" I screamed. He avoided the Expelliarmus too, he was a master of duels.

"You have quite a feisty behaviour today miss Granger." He said.

"I guess I came to my senses" I replied.

"Phobos" He threw at me. The spell hit me in my leg.

"Finite incantatorum! Crucio" I threw at him. The spell didn't go near him, but I was proud of my accomplishment. I was on the ground, dressed in a black servant dress, my curls falling ungracefully around my head.

He started walking towards me, towering above me. He grabbed me by my arms and lifted me off the ground. My face was at the same level as his, we were looking in each other's eyes. His lips curled in a smirk that would make Malfoy jealous. I understood then that I had no escape, I was his for whatever torture he was mentally planning for me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He lifted me up in the air and threw me to the bed. I screamed in pain. The sheets were satin, soft, something I didn't experience on my skin for some time now. He climbed over me, and I understand what he wanted to do, he wanted to rape me, destroy the last part of me he didn't mess up with till now: my body.

He was over me looking at me straight in my eyes. He was reading my mind, and I knew it.

"Fear." He stated. "Pure fear". He smirked.

And with that he started ravishing me. He roughly pinned my hands over my head and started to cup my curves. He wasn't gentle, not even close, his whole being was emanating pure, raw lust. He ripped my dress into pieces, and just in a few moments I was standing there, in front of him in nothing than my cream cotton simple underwear. He took me in his arms and then threw me in the center of the bed, and even though the mattress was very soft it hurt. I started to cry. I started to beg him not do to this and all I could see was his smirk mocking me from above. I started to move, to kick him with all my force when he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pinned my head by the bed. He smiled.

He took a moment to look at me, looked me deeply in the eyes like he was trying to tell me something. The scene looked horrible, a beautiful dark hair young man abusing a semi-naked girl. I closed my eyes, wishing for that was to come to end quickly, not to feel it.

I was prepared for it to hurt, to feel bad, but instead, I felt two hands passionately roaming through my body. His hands were tracing patterns over my knees, my thighs, and then up to my belly and breasts just to be continued with my neck. When his hand reached my face, he cupped my face.

"Open your eyes" He said, with a different voice that I ever heard him use. It was almost gentle, almost loving.

I did like he said, slowly letting light go through my eyelids. I looked at him; he was looking at me pleadingly, almost waiting for an answer. I stared at him in confusion, it was nothing like I expected. I closed my eyelids and opened them again, hoping he would take the hint and he did. He started kissing my neck, my shoulders and then he slowly reached my breasts. He professionally opened my bra, releasing my round breasts. My nipples were already hard waiting for him.

He started sucking on my left and then on my right nipple and I could feel his hard shaft through his black trousers. He slowly undid his blouse and then undressed and threw it on the ground. I was too amazed of what was happening to make a move, but my body was involuntarily trembling under his touch.

"Let down your occulmancy shield and I'll let mine." I didn't understand his request, but I did like I was told. I didn't want to take advantage of the fact that I could see into his mind, I just wanted to be in his arms, in his hands.

His mouth started wandering around my body and I gained enough courage to touch him. He was slender, and his skin was softer than anything I ever touched in my life. I ran my hands through his hair and he smiled against my skin because I was responding. I didn't care if that was a wicked way to break me again, him against me was something too much to handle.

With expert hands he released me of my panties and I undid his belt buckle. He got rid of his trousers and underwear very fast, and soon, we were there, two naked bodies one against another, in perfect green satin sheets.

I looked at him, he looked peaceful. He got above me, sitting between my legs, he kissed my neck, and with one short move he slid into me. I screamed in pain, and he got up, something he didn't expect.

Blood started to slowly drift into the sheets, red against green. He noticed that and met my gaze.

"You are a virgin?" He looked at me, almost amazed.

"I am" I replied.

He smiled. A perfectly pure smile.

"The pain will fade. Are you ok?" He asked, looking concerned.

"You're a bastard." I said, with a smile on my face. That was the first time I smiled a sincere smile in a long, long time. There, with him inside me, I felt complete.

"I know" He replied, with the same smile on his face. Slowly his lips caressed mine, something which later transformed in a passionate kiss. Tasting him, I understood why he never kissed me before, the sensations were unique, just like him. He started moving, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. Something was happening to me, something new, except the sex. It was like having him inside me with all his being, the occulmancy shield being down for both of us, we were both experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time. As the pace was growing, so was the pleasure. I was in him and he was in me, and then I understood: we were making love both mentally and physically.

The waves of orgasm hit us both in the same time, and he collapsed above me. We stood there, our limbs and minds interlocked until sleep took over us. I looked at his perfect aristocratic face for the last time, we were talking through our mental bond.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two lovers were sleeping naked on a four poster old bed. The room was dark, the fire was slightly illuminating their perfect bodies.

The girl woke up alone the next day, looking for her lover.

She didn't see him there, but instead, on his pillow there was a note.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"_Today us, tomorrow the world. I love you. _

_L.V."_

The girl's lips curled into an evil smirk.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The end.


	2. When pride meets prejudice

The problem with relationships is that no matter how much you try to make it good there will always be a small thing that will make all your effort fall down. I woke up one day with a life that I didn't like. I wanted something else, something difficult, dangerous, that would make my blood boil – later I leaned that there actually are some dark curses that can achieve that – and my spirit free. Then I learned that I was a witch and everything changed.

I cannot say that I did not want to take part in this war – it was my chance to prove myself, to prove everyone that I could do much more than excel in classes. I guess I felt limited between all those people who knew about magic, lived their whole lives among it. To reach my point, would you like to live in a world so limited, so small that you could have a map of it? Isn't that the saddest thing you ever heard about? Having a map of all the places you could go. It is like someone already set boundaries for you from the very start. Does my desire for greatness makes me repulsive as a human being? The Hermione I want and I will have is one who is not scared of greatness, or, to quote directly from him:"to be one of those who are not scared to use power."

I guess this was the first thing I secretly admired about him: not being scared to use all his power, even it if was against me. But that didn't actually stop me to swear him with all my guts while staying on the ground receiving "Crucio" after "Crucio" – in my mind that is.

"…fuckin … daaaaaaaamn ...aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah"

"Stop wincing Hermione. Makes you look weak"

Tom Riddle had his perfect features contortioned into an evil smirk that fit his face perfectly. Why should I deny it? The man I slept with looked incredibly good. "Hot" – as muggle may women say.

"Aren't you man enough to fight me in a duel? That's why you Crucio me every time I have my back turned on you?"

"You wouldn't have earned the Crucio if you have _at least_ respected my orders."

"If by respecting your orders you mean staying in this blasted room 24/7 then why don't you kill me already, hmm?" The bushy-haired girl had her head held in a mocking position even if she was on the floor. Her clothes were only some dull black robes, previously used by Merlin knows who.

"Pet, you're still on the ground. I do not think that you are under any condition to play mind games with me."

"Do NOT call me your pet! Fuck the variations of this language, I do not like this word!"

"CRUCIO!" Another wave hit me. Hard.

"Aaaaah… "

"Will you stop screaming? It's annoying and not to mention counterproductive."

"That would mean I cared" I said, panting. "Maybe I do not care anymore what you're thinking about me?" I rivaled his smirk. It felt better.

"Sectumsempra!" He threw at me lazily. It was weird because that was not his usually choice of spells. He really didn't like making a mess, and let me say, my blood spattered all over the place from my chest actually counted as a mess.

"This is for you to think how to act towards me from now on. You will not be healed. Have a good night, Hermione." With that, he approached me, kissed my forehead and drifted off the room.

Later that day, Tom Riddle was sitting in his room, sipping from a glass of wine. Lucius Malfoy was standing near him, in a huge armchair, looking slightly uncomfortable. You cannot blame that man though; there was nobody who was feeling normal around the Dark Lord anymore. Well, except Hermione. She somehow managed to expose him and make him her property. Hot that filthy mudblood managed to keep the interest flowing in his Lord was something impossible to figure out for Lucius. After a few moments of silence the Lord Voldemort spoke first. It wasn't something unusual, Lucius knew very well that trying to initiate a conversation with him in such moments would turn out badly for him, or, if he was in a really bad mood, for his family too.

"…she never screamed."

"Pardon me my Lord?"

"The first time I fucked her. She didn't scream. There was only a soft pant, a request. It was not like all those whores who scream and look pathetic thinking that they will get more attention with it. She was a virgin and I knew it and she knew it but she didn't say a word while I tore her apart and she didn't let a tear fall. But she was in pain, oh and that pain, I could feel it. I could taste it, I revolved in it, it stung all the way through my bones but she didn't say a word. "

"Did you ask her why?"

"I didn't. I already knew. I entered her mind and the reason was there, clear as water. I didn't have to dive in to try and find it; she didn't even try to hide it. The words were crystal clear there, in a huge chain of thoughts. She said she was mine and she knew what that meant. She said she would stand every bit of pain, because she loved me and if loving me meant sometimes hurt, than she shall stand all the hurt in the world."

"She was something…"

"No. She was not a possession even if she even so often submitted to my will. She was not an acquisition; she was just the perfect ally, the perfect companion"

"Why did she leave?"

"She didn't. She never will. She cannot."

"My Lord, you mean … she's still in here?"

"Of course she is, Lucius. Did you think I'll allow her to depart anytime soon? Strong men don't often need equally strong women and vice versa because there often appears a sense of competition between them. She was as strong as me, and I admit it, she was a skilled, beautiful, talented and powerful woman but she bended for me. She bended for my will, she submitted my wishes even if sometimes only in bed. But with a pride like hers, submitting to someone means something greater than death. And I bended for her."

"Why did you, master?"

"Why did I what?"

"Why did you comply with her wishes? You're the most powerful man on this earth and you limited your actions for a mere woman"

"Lucius, you don't understand, do you?"

"Forgive my ignorance master, but I do not."

"I may be the most powerful man on earth, but she is the most powerful woman, the only one that equals me. Having her is better than ruling the earth, it's a challenge, a never-ending chain of days and nights which provide me fuel for me to rule this kingdom. She is the reason you are still alive."

Lucius Malfoy stood there, his face full of uncertainty. What did that mean? He wasn't always this cryptic, so it meant something's going to happen anytime soon.

I keep imagining myself what would be like to have that certain someone who would appreciate you for whatever you are, for the ups and downs that the life offers to a person. I never understood how some persons can stay with the same person for a long amount of time. I think that they grew somehow accustomed to that fake sense of security and decided to keep it for the long run. I couldn't do that in my life. First with Viktor, who was never up to my wishes. He was strict, rigorous and I really liked him for that but he was among others impossibly craving for safety. How can anyone have this foolish hope during one war?

Life is not always ok with people, and sometimes that certain someone may not be prince charming riding a beautiful white horse, it may as well be someone with many flaws, but you should always understand that life is colorful, and it has so many shades…

There was a time in my life when I thought that everything will be red and gold - the Gryffindor colors. The founders of Hogwarts never understood when they chose the colors of a house, and the sorting in the first place that they would influence every living creature that will life in there.

But at a closer look, my life was grey, and green. And it had silver in it. There may have been a lot of black that contrasted beautifully with the emerald green of his eyes, but that was is. Oh, and I forgot to mention purple – the color of royalty.

In my current position – that is on the floor, with blood splattered all over the place and my chest bleeding like a river – I guess I only see red, but that is due to the blood of course. I totally hate him when he does something like this to me. He is supposed to at least care about me – well, I know there is a small level of care since he did not kill me until now, because yes, in the mind of a dark lord living is a small mercy. Well, at least my bleeding stopped! Thank Merlin for small mercies.

When he left the room I didn't one moment expect for him to come back, heal me and whisper sweet nothings in my ears. That's not how we live in here. I got here as a slave and no matter how fast I make my way up into the hierarchy I will always remain a slave, only I will not have so many masters. He is my only master, the only one that I will ever listen to. I believe that the problem with this is age – he is far older than me and this implies that he is far more experienced. I may be stupid not to agree with the fact that I equal him in so many things but this is a matter that requires no further discussion.

I believe that he does not to see me weak, but I am so weak now. My head falls heavily on my shoulders and I drift into an uncomfortably unconsciousness.

Later that night he came into my room – his room, fuck it, our room. I was still lying uncomfortably on the floor because I literally couldn't move. He didn't acknowledge me, or better yet he didn't want to. After a few minutes of awkward silence he finally addressed me.

"Come here, I have something for you."

"I cannot move"

"Crucio! You will not address me directly you filthy mudblood." I forced my limbs to move and I crawled to his feet. He was there, tall, handsome. Beautiful eyelashes were mocking my position on the floor. He quickly muttered a healing spell and made me stand.

"Here. Take it. Wear it. Do not ever take it off"

"That is the Locket of Bion. I will not wear that under any circumstances." I stated with one breath. His eyes never left mine.

"I very well know that you are capable to get a full mind block Hermione but you should also be aware that I can rip it into pieces and your little twisted mind will be shattered in no time. Please refrain from blocking your mind in my presence since it is highly unnecessary. I will always know what you are thinking."

"If you break my mind I will be useless for your purpose so I think I will keep my block up thank you very much. If you wanted me dead Wormtail would be eating my remains by now."

"If you do not wear this locket I believe that I will be forced to force it upon you. And I have a couple of ideas that could work out very well." His eyes held a little bemusement since I was the only one that could say him some things and get unpunished. This usually lasted a few minutes."

"Why on earth do you expect to wear a locked designed to make me feel pain every time you deem it necessary? If I put this around my neck I will be forever doomed to be yours and for that my lord, I do no think I am ready."

"Would you stop being such an insufferable know it all and secure that around your neck? You know very well that there are other ways beside Crucio to make you bend to my wishes." His eyes sparked a gleam of red. Good. He was angry. "Do it now."

"And what would be those methods if you allow me to ask my lord?"

"Rape my dear, rape." He stated calmly like it would be the most natural thing in the world. This thought scared me a bit.

"Oh my lord, but coming from you, I do not think that the rape would be so unpleasant. I recall that you are somewhat skilled in that area." There was it. Lust. All over his face. He wanted it, he craved me.

"But who said something about me?" He smirked wickedly while touching his wand. "Lucius. Avery. Dolohov. I believe those attractive men will respond to your wishes."

The room was filled with the sound of three pops while three men appeared. They were all wearing black and a smirk was present on their faces. They knew. Tom told them exactly what to do before he entered the room, it was all planned ahead.

"You never cease to amaze me, my lord. Give me that locket."

"Oh my sweet Hermione, since you didn't want it the first place I believe that you should as well beg for it now. You know, protocol"

"Then I'll just have to obey your command won't i? I knew that what I was going to do will earn me a lot of Crucio and moreover starvation but I did it anyway. I went close to him and kissed his mouth eagerly. I needed to feel him again, and somehow torture didn't seem to matter while I was feeling him. The three death eaters we had as a public froze, not knowing what to do. What was I to him? How could I be allowed to touch the dark lord in such ways and moreover to get him to respond to my treatments? Of course, it followed. The hot pain that ripped my muscles apart.

"Lucius, set up a meeting with my inner circle in an hour. If anyone's gone missing I will have your head as well as theirs." Tom Riddle was slightly annoyed by his new acquisition. It proved that that little girl had more guts in herself than he ever imagined. Who thought that she will have the courage to kiss him – the dark lord for Merlin's sake – in front of three dangerous Death Eaters and moreover smile when they all threw their Crucios at her. Of course that smile didn't last long but as a matter of fact there was absolutely no doubt that the girl had a bit of insanity in her well structured brain. It was interesting her choice of occulmancy walls though. Most occulmens preferred to have something that looked like an unbreakable wall on the surface with some kind of mechanism that allowed entrance. Hers was made of fog. Dense white fog, with no escape. _She must be the only one to know the road. Clever,_ he thought, _really clever._

A few minutes later the whole inner circle was gathered. Lord Voldemort – who now was now wearing his glamour charm sat proudly in the center of a large circular room, the gathering room. He decided to use it for this only purpose and there were spells that were protecting it for whatever may happen, he always liked to be productive. The death eaters appeared with a pop. He acknowledged them step by step.

"Malfoy." A blonde figure bowed slightly. He and Bellatrix were the only ones who weren't required a full bow.

"Bellatrix." Bellatrix Lestranged smiled with a cracked smile which looked devious. It pleased him, she was after all the only woman he tolerated in his Inner Circle. There were of course others who wanted to get into his good graces like that little Parkinson girl. But no one will ever reach the potential of his lovely sociopath, Bella.

"Avery."

"Parkinson."

"Nott."

"Rodolphus."

"Dolohov"

"Rosier."

"Flint."

"Mcnair." _Good._

"You are to receive the plans for the next three months at the end of this meeting. Read them carefully, learn them by heart then burn them. Since Britain is no longer our aim, since we have already achieved that" A few murmurs were to be heard in the background. "Silence!" The room was instantly silent, since none of them were particulary fond of a night in the _dungeons. _"We will expand. We will gain territory around us conquering our way through Europe. You are in for a rough year. You are to meet here with me in exactly one month for a meeting with discussions and proposals for a strategy. Dissmissed."

The cloaked bodies started to move slowly disappearing one by one.

"Bella, one word please. The others may leave." Voldemort hissed.

"Yes my lord?" Bellatrix was looking as usual, with her hair impossibly frizzy and wearing a black lacy corset. She was eccentric to say at least, but that's what's made her more dangerous than useless pieces of meat like Crabbe and Goyle for example.

"You are to present yourself tonight at eight sharp in my chambers. Dismissed."

Bellatrix smiled wildly, she knew what that meant. Her lord wanted her. If she could just kill Rodolphus faster, but no, that was not a priority for the Dark Lord just yet. She had to stay with that leech of a husband until her lord deemed necessary.

"Mudblood."

Hermione was sitting in a chair in his room, the only chair that she was allowed to sit in. He decided to give her that much liberty since seeing her crawling on the floor every time he got in the room was not necessarily the best view. She slowly met his eyes.

"Prepare yourself, we have a visitor tonight."

"Who?" She didn't even make a gesture that indicated she was sorry for her outburst earlier.

"It's a surprise." He said while letting his glamour charm down. He smiled and it was an understatement, nothing coming for him will ever be good news.

Time passed by quickly with him reading and her looking miserably while contemplating the flames. He knew exactly what his little mudblood was thinking; she was always watching the flames when she was nervous. So she was anxious for that was about to happen. At eight sharp a soft knock was heard on the door. Voldemort quickly turned towards Hermione.

"You are not to move, to speak or to do anything that will reveal your presence in this room. Spells will be cast to be sure of this, but I strongly advice you not to think about any stunt. It is not about torture from now one which, it's about your life. Silencio" was whispered before she could even say a word. To say that that was utterly odd wasn't old news. He then cast and disillusionment charm and her body disappeared. "You are not to move from this chair, dear, whatever it may happen, you just sit here and watch." With that he quickly moved towards the door.

"Bella, enter."

"My lord." The head of Bellatrix Lestrange was to be seen outside the door. She stepped in casually. _So I'm going to witness a discussion between him and his "bella" that would probably itch me to the core. I could easily bet my life on the fact that he will ask Bellatrix to describe every detail my torture at the Malfoy Manor. Great. Ass._

But that did not happen, not even close. Bellatrix held her head pointed to the ground till he decided to grab her chin and lift it up.

"Undress." He stated and she begun to do what he told. She begun with her robes and after that with her corset leaving large breasts exposed. In a matter of seconds she was naked in front of him.

"Good. Undress me". She didn't need to be told twice. In a few seconds Lord Voldemort was naked as well, fully aroused.

"Get on the bed." She obliged. Tom got on the bed and entered her fully with one thrust. Bellatrix groaned and screamed like a maniac. She was already insane but watching her in that position looked like she was going to scream her lungs out. He was above her, on her elbows, her head slightly titled to left, his eyes watching straight to an empty green chair, to Hermione. A big grim spread on his face, he knew then, he knew that Hermione understood that this was her punishment. Without further notice he got attention towards the woman under him and continued his ministrations to her naked body. He grabbed one breast and fastened his pace. Bellatrix was screaming with anger while her orgasm hit her. That was what he needed, so he went for his own pleasure thrusting into her violently, until he came. He got off the bed and motioned the death eater to leave. She grabbed her clothes and went for the door.

"Thank you my lord," And with that she slowly bowed and left the room.

It was only after a minute in which he scourgified himself and the sheets when he ended the charms on Hermione. She was sitting there, on the chair, in the exact same position he left her. Her eyes looking forward, through him.

"Enjoying the show?" He asked bemused.

She didn't answer.

"I ASKED you a question."

Her eyes looked dull. Still no answer could be heard, not even a breath.

"Crucio!" An angry Voldemort threw against Hermione.

She fell to the ground unceremoniously. She didn't scream and that time he understood was not because she didn't want to. She was just … numb.

_Her hands on him. She was touching him, he was hers. Bellatrix touched him. Her hands…"_

A.N. Hate it, love it? Review.


	3. Her eternal misery

"Her… Hermione?"

Numbness.

"Hermione?"

Numbness.

"GRANGER! Wake up!"

Draco Malfoy was staring at his ex-colleague trying to get a word out of her know-it-all mouth that usually didn't stop talking. To say that seeing her like this was weird was of course an understatement. She never stopped talking, ever! That's one of those things that annoyed him most about her; she always had a reply for his attacks that usually left him speechless. Seeing her unable to speak made it almost no fun insulting her, because after all, it was pointless. Her eyes were dull, lifeless. He was wondering what the dark lord did to her since there was no evidence that he used magic upon her. This was of course weird because Voldemort didn't usually chose to torture people the muggle way, so the only way he could manage something like this on someone this "unbreakable" was to torture her mind. But how could that man reach her emotions since he very well knew that Granger was an accomplished occulmens.

"If you don't speak in the next five seconds mudblood I will make sure you scream. And you don't want that do you?"

Numbness.

"Crucio!" She fell down the floor, without screaming, only trembling slightly

What the HELL? What did Voldemort do to her?

The door opened slightly revealing Bellatrix's head that addressed Draco.

"The Dark Lord requires your presence young Malfoy. You are to leave the mudblood with me!"

He didn't wait a second until he got his cloak and left the room.

"My Lord."

"Young Malfoy." Riddle was staring at the fire, his back at Malfoy. This wasn't one of those days that he was in a good mood, not even at close. Voldemort's rage could easily be felt from the east wing for Merlin's sake. "I believe that there was nothing you could do." It was a statement, of course.

"Forgive me my lord, but there was no reaction from her part. I believe that she is in a state of shock."

"I figured that much. I need you to take her away."

"Pardon me my lord?"

"Take her away to the manor. Isolate her. Keep her healthy and safe. If you disobey my orders I will ask for your head on a silver platter. I guess I made myself understood. Dismissed!"

Draco bowed and left there room. This man was totally crazy, first he decides to torture her to the core and after that he wants to keep her safe. What's the meaning of all this? Did the world go wrong?

Tom Riddle however decided that it was the best to wait. He knew that he pushed some boundaries when he decided to fuck Bellatrix in front of Hermione. Well, she asked for it. The thing is, she was now wearing the Locket of Bion. He wished to control Hermione before setting her free – as in giving her wand back and maybe access to a library – that was all that the locket was supposed to do, but _no, _she wanted to fight it. For a know it all she was really a pain in the ass.

There was a murmur outside. A loud crack disrupted the silence. Tom grabbed his wand in order to punish anyone who dared to disturb his thinking. Didn't they learn already that he really liked silence? _His _silence. Morons. He opened the door but outside the room was only smoke. What had happened there? A wooden chair broke, the hall was on fire. The marble stairs were crashing loudly against one wall, death eaters were running along. Were they under attack? And why were they all running. Imbeciles!

20 meters away from him he could distinguish two silhouettes fighting. Wait, was that Bellatrix? The other shape threw a spell on her and Bella was in a matter of seconds on the ground. He hoped Hermione was ok since the two death eaters who were supposed to take care of her were lying dead on the floor. Useless pieces of meat, they couldn't even guard a 19 year old girl while him being away for 30 minutes. They deserved their fate; the only thing he regretted most was not getting to kill them first.

"Stop smiling, _bitch._" The remark was rather cruel. Wait. Was that Hermione? HIS Hermione? Oh this is going to be good.

Bellatrix got up and was on her feet again, she was dueling. The other shape muttered a spell quickly and Bella's hand flew in the air, a few meters away from her. Her wand hand. Merlin, Hermione was good, he admitted it. He approached them without interfering with the duel. Hermione's cheeks were red with anger, her hair wild and full of dust. The ends of her curls were slightly frizzy, due to the effort. Her eyes were holding a rage that could rival his. He was amazed to say at least, he didn't think that Potter's do-gooder had it in herself.

Hermione approached Bellatrix's handless form dangerously. She towered above the death eater and pointed her wand at her temple.

"Next time, don't cross roads with me, or I will make sure that hand will never grow again." And she smiled. Oh, and that smile did wonders to Tom. She was dangerously gorgeous, a queen between dark cloaks.

Hermione finally acknowledged that Tom was there. With her face flushed from the duel she looked at him with a big grim on her face.

"Sorry." She said, looking extremely pleased. With that, she retreated in his room.

All the death eaters in the hall remained silent.

"Bellatrix." Riddle approached the woman who was on the ground.

"My Lord, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I failed you. Please my lord, please, forgive me…" Bellatrix was crying, her face flushed and her hand – or rather her ex hand bleeding.

"Grow your hand back. You are to report in my office in an hour."

"But my lord, please, the mudblood… she…"

"Will you expect me to accept your poor excuses when a 19 year old girl with no knowledge of dark arts put you to the ground?"

Lord Voldemort turned around left the hall.

"Hermione?"

The girl was just sitting on his bed, faking sleep.

"You should at least wash yourself before throwing your mudblood self in _my _bed."

"I'm sleeping"

"No you are not; otherwise you wouldn't have answered me."

"Oh, you figured that out!" She smiled in her pillow.

"Crucio"!"

"Protego!" She replied in an instant.

"Where did you get that wand anyway?"

"The gorillas that was supposed to guard me." Her face in the pillow, her words was muffled.

"Oh." Tom replied looking slightly amused. "How does it feel, dear? Vengeance I mean."

She quickly got off the bed, in a sitting position.

"That was not revenge. Those were just old accounts getting cleared."

"Wasn't it?" Tom smirked.

"You are the only person I should get revenge on, _my lord._ She was merely a casualty_"_

"So you plan something on me then?" His laughter filled the room.

"Not yet, my lord, not yet." Hermione was positively angry. Of course she got even with Bellatrix, but she wouldn't in a thousand years admit it. Hell, she wouldn't even admit it to herself fully.

"You should get washed. You have duties to do."

"Like what?" She smiled.

"Rebuilding the hall. You know I hate messy places."

"Don't I get extra points for not making a mess in here?"

"You already are walking on a thin line honey. If I were you I'll make sure I wouldn't cross ways with Bellatrix around any dark corner anytime soon."

"If I were her, I wouldn't either."

He smiled.

She entered the bathroom quickly, proceeding to get cleaned.

That bitch earned it. Trying to disturb her meditation like that. She was in a state of shock, god damn it, wasn't that something people should respect? Of course she knew Bellatrix was only trying to get on her nerves but she actually managed it. As for Tom, she made sure she couldn't touch him anytime soon. Not with her hand missing. She thought to cut them both but she knew very well that she couldn't excuse that move with "anger". At least that was the excuse she thought about but Voldemort didn't look mad at all with her. Hell, she was right. That man was impossibly to read – first she refuses the locket, than she slaughters his "lover" and she gets no punishment.

She abandoned thinking and started to scrub her body instead. Merlin she needed a clear head. She didn't have a chance at a good bath for ages, so when Voldemort gave her the opportunity she took it without thinking twice.

When she finished she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body and went into his room. He was no longer there, as expected. He was probably somewhere around the world torturing innocent people. Yes, that's what he was doing, of course. And Bella was probably licking her wounds. Good, there will finally be silence around here for a few hours.

She quickly acknowledged that she had nothing to wear. Would it… be imprudent? She quickly decided it was not and approached his dressing. She dressed herself with a pair of his robes and transfigured them to be her size. God, she missed having a wand.

He returned two hours later, looking tired. It wasn't something very often to see, since most of the time he was just planning and making strategies to conquer everything around.

"Why are _you _wearing _my _robes?"

"I had nothing else to wear" She answered truthfully.

"Very well then, you will be supplied tomorrow with something."

"I hope you will not make me wear that horrible corsets from _Bella_'s dressing." She smirked.

"No dear, they wouldn't fit you. Although…" He was mocking her shamelessly.

"Good then. I believe that I am going to stick to your closet then."

His expression was priceless. A mudblood wearing his expensive robes. Nooo, that just couldn't be possible.

Minutes of silence passed, with Hermione memorizing every hole in the walls and Voldemort reading carelessly on the bed. His hair was slightly caressing his face and he was wearing no shirt. There was a small line of dark hair down his abdomen leading to…. _No Hermione, don't think about that. _When she decided that the counting the wholes was slightly repetitive, she felt a presence trying to reach her mind.

"Stop trying to fuck with my head" She stated.

"Why?" Tom didn't lift his face up, he was still reading and she knew it. It was impossible the way this man was multi tasking everything.

"Because it's already fucked up."

"I was merely having a minute of fun."

"You know you will not be able to enter unless I'll show you the way?"

"Forever is a very long time Hermione. I am not waiting that much time, even if _I have it." _He smirked, closing his book with a pop.

"Where did you get the idea of the fog?"

"Azkaban."

"I didn't know that little girls like you were allowed to enter places so _horrible _like that, dear."

"Wow, a thing you didn't know" She clapped her hands in fake excitement.

"I didn't say that I knew everything, but I am close to." He said, looking smug.

"That pride will kill you."

"Who said it didn't?" Tom smirked knowingly. He lifted up the bed, slowly walking to a bookshelf opposite the bed. He caressed the spines until he reached a particular one, extracted it and threw it to Hermione.

"Read it. Learn it."

"Why would I?"

"Because I said so!"

"Oh. Let me think about it. Hmm… NO!"

"Crucio!" That pain... Oh, it remained unchanged.

"Fuck it!" She was panting on the floor, limbs in some awkward positions.

"Language!"

He lifted up the curse, threw the book at her and it landed on her lap. She gained some senses, took the book up and read her cover. "Hogwarts, a _dark History". _

Oh sweet Merlin, since when did something like that existed? Was that something like "Hogwarts, a History" for death eaters? No, that wasn't possible. But the cover read very clearly, a _dark _history. The maniac! He knew about her love about that book and also knew that she couldn't help reading it. It was a teasing on the highest level. What to do now… what to do what to do? There was NOTHING to do but to read. Sneaky bastard.

With trembling hands she opened the cover and started to read.

"… and she cut her hand off with a spell. Damn Mudblood." Dolohov and Avery were discussing the latest matters while sipping some firewhisky in one of the ten common rooms.

They were both laughing and enjoying some "quality" time when a voice spoke up in the back.

"I didn't know you were so much into gossip."

"My lord, excuse our boldness." They both bowed, Dolohov slightly lower than Avery.

"Avery, how's Medusa?"

"Very well sir, she's halfway through the pregnancy. We think it's a boy, worthy to serve you my lord."

"Good. I need the east part of the manor for a period of time"

"Your wish is my command, my lord. If I may ask…."

"The mudblood. I want her trained. You saw what she could do to Bella, and if I am not wrong, neither of you managed something like that before."

The two men looked ashamed, but it was true. Nobody who messed with Bellatrix ever got in one piece out of that place.

"My lord, I believe that it's a very wise decision" Dolohov added. "The mudblood is a valuable asset."

"You think I don't know that already?

When he came back to the room Hermione was cuddle in the place he was previously reading, with a book tight in her small hands. He recognized Hogwarts, a Dark History and was immediately filled with content. Good, the plan worked. That was the first taste of dark art he took too. There was only a matter of time until she will want other books to satisfy her curiosity. Even though everything was going according to plan he couldn't help mocking her a bit. It was a fun pass-time after all.

"Learning how to read?"

"What?" She lifted her head out of the book curiously. Of course she didn't hear the question. She was too busy to sucking every bit of information into her oversized brain.

"I said, are you learning to read,_ mudblood?_"

"Contrary to what may people think, I didn't learn to read in an orphanage, like you did."

"That was not really the point. I was merely asking if a filthy mudblood like you could read."

"At least I had a mother who learned me to. Unlike Merope, who couldn't even get a man love her, moreover to read."

Tom Riddle flew in a second near Hermione, pinning her to the nearest wall. His eyes read, there was only a droplet of sweat falling down his forehead. Hermione has gone too far and she knew it.

"I'm…I…" The curly girl tried to say but the words couldn't leave her mouth.

"You've suppressed your limits, mudblood." She couldn't say anything, he was too close, far too close. His strong hands were gripping her small ones tight, leaving skin bruised along the process. She was lower than he is, due to her petite form. There was no way in hell she could escape this prison. A hand slapped her face painfully, obliging her to move her head to the right. Blood was coming in waves to her brain, it stung.

"You believe that you are a lot to me, don't you, silly girl?" His minty breath was all over her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. The occulmancy shield was up, but barely standing. In this situation even a small push could clear the fog and show her mind. No, that was not recommended.

"You believe that because I _fucked _you, you could talk to me like that?" She didn't move, she just listened to him, hoping that I will soon be over.

"You believe that good will always defeat evil and a miracle will come from the sky and save you from here? Let me clear your status dear, you are a mudblood slave, nothing more. I can easily dispose of you and I can throw you to my men and have their way with you. Do you want that?"

No response. Of course there was none. There was only numbness again.

"Hermione?"

No answer.

He tried to enter her mind unsuccessfully; the fog was there, only it was dense, much more dense than usual. There was something changed too, there were storm clouds all over. They were not usually there so what had happened?

She was in the same position, except her hands were near her body since he let them free. She was looking rather lifeless. There was something wrong with her, he guessed. No one who enters states of shock goes numb like this. He got her up in his arms and positioned her on the bed. There should be something to be done with her. If only he could… if only he could get pass the storm clouds and reach her mind.

It was the only thing to do actually, her body was not the problem, her mind was. He couldn't wait for her to wake up like she did with Bellatrix, who knows who will be the unlucky one who will get his hands cut? No, it was too much of a risk. He needed to drift into her mind, and he did.

He found himself standing in the fog, with no view around him whatsoever. There must be some sort of mechanism, some sort of password to make the fog disappear. He started calling out loud words like "Gryffindor", "Loyalty", "Brave" but nothing seemed to make it work.

"You're getting it all wrong?"

The words were coming like an echo, from the distance. It was Hermione.

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" The echo responded. "You are in my mind."

"I know, but you shouldn't be in here, you should be conscious."

"Does it look like I have choice? I am trapped."

"What? Trapped in your own mind"

"Yes. Don't I look happy to be here?" She answered, slightly ironic but her voice trembling.

"How on earth did you manage to do that?" Tom asked.

"The walls, I couldn't hold them when you were near, so I went in"

"Silly girl!" he screamed, looking positively angered "Don't you know the risk? You could end up a vegetable."

"You know you are still in my mind you know, I can make you do whatever I want. "

"Oh I doubt that. What could you do?"

"Try me." He was suddenly standing on a rock, the only one in a huge ocean. The rock was apparition free. He tried some spells but there was nothing working. Oh Merlin, that place was magic free.

"Hermione!" He screamed, at the top of his lungs.

"There is a trigger". She answered, bored to her mind. "You must say the password to release me."

"And what would that be?" He asked, slightly amused.

"The password reverses every day. That is all I can say."

"What do you mean?" He asked, but that was no answer. _The password reverses every day. Every day… so there should be something related to dates… But what could it be? Could it be the current date? Today was June 17. But no, that was not it. But it could be… yes… the smartass. She reversed the day of the calendar for passwords. That meant that 1__st__ of January related to 31__st__ December. And_ _that would mean that June 17 was… _

"July 15." In the exact moment he screamed the password he felt a presence behind him throwing him out of her mind. They were both on the bed, in the crude reality, panting hardly on the bed.

He quickly got aware of his surroundings and of the girl next to him.

"It's a disease" she stated as a matter of fact.

"What?" He asked curiously.

"Getting trapped into my own mind. It happens often, that's why I never fought in mission for the Order."

"So that's why you were never used to your true potential. There was too much of a risk." He said, more to himself.

"There were not many who knew."

"Who thought…" he smiled to himself "The brilliant Hermione Granger sick. Well that is a good information"

He quickly got off the bed and headed out of the room. She remained there, staring aimlessly around the room. She was screwed, she knew that. Once he got his hand on such a valuable piece of information there was not much that she could do but hope.

A.N. Reviews help me write more. Enjoy the story


	4. Mixed feeling and long rides

"You will receive the mark."

Hermione Granger, ex-head girl at Hogwarts, ex-member of the Order of the Phoenix, accomplished occulmens and well known know-it-all was taken aback.

She was silently reading in a chair – his chair - in his room when a cold voice from the back woke her up from her current action of sucking in information like a sponge. Lord Voldemort – also known as Tom Riddle or the most self- centered ass on the whole planet, Hermione might add – decided to make her day even worse. He didn't have enough when she let him know that she had an illness that was not easily cured, he just wanted to rub it in her face that he could do whatever he may want with her.

She slowly lifted her head from her book and met his gaze.

"I will not."

"I did not ask you a question in order to receive an answer. This was merely a statement. " He looked perfectly gorgeous, as ever Hermione might add again, but there was an amused look on his face.

"I will not take the dark mark! For what? For making it easier for you to make me kill innocent people, torture muggle borns? I refuse!"

"Stupid infuriating which. For a brain like yours you think like a 4 year old. Did you honestly think that all the death eaters do just that? Kill innocent people? Did it ever occur to you that there is MORE to this castle than people killing each other on the halls?"

"God damn it Riddle! You want me do to your dirty work!" She was positively angry, but it looked delicious on her.

"Thanks Merlin, you finally got it!" He motioned his hands in the air like he received some sort of blessing. What an arrogant prat.

"I will not wash your dirty laundry! You have that witch-bitch called Bellatrix to do that "

"Who said anything about clothes? " He said, looking slightly offended.

"It was a matter of speech." She motioned, waving her hands as well in the air

"Will you stop speaking muggle-esque with me and start listening to me woman?"

"I am merely a girl" She replied, smiling.

"You didn't seem so innocent that night though" An evil grim spread on his face.

"Oh don't remind me of past mistakes please" She turned her back at him, smiling as well.

"That was last week!"

"I know how to count days, thank you very much" She replied, proud of her.

"No, really?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "So you're saying, that I took you right here, right now, you wouldn't like it?" Riddle approached her like a hunter stalking a prey. No, she won't give up.

"We are getting away from the point" Truthfully, it was better talking about her being a forced death eater that admitting that she enjoyed being in bed with him. Well, that _was _, because she won't let him touch her anytime soon, it was too much of an invasion.

"And you are changing the subject." He added.

"You're the one who changed it in the first place. What's the matter with Dark Lords these days? Can't you get a potion to limit your hormones?"

"So you did more than one dark lord for that matter? Who was it? Grindewald?"

"I wasn't even born then!"

"You had a time-turner." How did he know about that for Merlin's sake!

"How did you know that?" She asked him slightly curious.

"That's beside the point" He grinned. God he was such an actor.

"Since when did this conversation had a point?" He was so infuriating at times.

"You're getting the dark mark and it's over."

With that he turned around and left the room in a hurry. What was the matter with boys these days? She didn't even get to ask him what were his ulterior reasons! Not that he would tell her but hey, at least she had to try. Guess there was no more reading for little Hermione, since no words seemed to make sense when she put the book back in her lap.

*  
Tom Riddle walked on the halls, his robes billowing at his back. He would really make a good "Snape", only that he really knew the difference between washing yourself and keeping your hair greasy. If the majority of the females around there didn't fear him to death than he would probably have slept with all of them. But that was not a matter of interest for Voldemort. There were better things to take care of, like Hermione.

Why was he so intrigued by this mudblood ? The answer came to him in an instant. Of all the people he ever met there was only two he could not dominate. Dumbledore and Granger, but he took care of that old fool anyway. But with Granger, there was a whole different story. He couldn't even get himself to kill her, he recognized potential when he saw it and that little curly beast was something he didn't see since he was attending Hogwarts in no one else than himself.

He got to his office, sat at his desk and proceeded rubbing his temples. A few seconds after he summoned Draco Malfoy.

"Yes my lord?" Draco was there seconds after bowing gracefully. He was always punctual and Riddle rather liked it.

"I have told you to take Granger away at the Manor." Tom's face was void of any emotion

"Indeed my lord."

"There were other circumstances, Granger was in a state of shock and I thought that being away from her place will get some sense into her. Of course, that was not the case, since we both know about the incident with Bellatrix." Draco smiled knowingly. Of course he knew all about it, there were rumors and everybody had been gossiping about the fact for hours.

"I assume that the plan changed?"

"No, it has not. Since Bellatrix will soon end her recovery Granger will have to be out of this place by the time she starts walking around and Crucio-ing people."

"I understand. What shall I do?"

"You will take Granger to the Manor for a week. I will want reports on her behavior daily. I want her to be trained by Lucius and to be treated respectfully. I believe that by the next full moon she will be ready to take the mark." Draco's mouth fell open.

"But…"

"Do not question me boy. Do as I told."

"Of course milord."

"Dismissed. Oh, and call Dolohov in here"

Draco left and Dolohov apparated. Riddle motioned him to take a seat. He was one of the most trusted death eaters and from time to time he really liked his company. He was a rather accomplished man, with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. He had strong long arms but wasn't really tall.

"My lord, you asked for me." He only nodded, knowing that formalities like bowing and praising him were only for those who are young and inexperienced. Of course, that was only known by him, Avery, Lucius , Nott and Rosier. Mcnair was getting there but there was still a long way to earn Riddle's trust.

"When is Medusa due?" Medusa, his wife, was pregnant in 6 months. There were a lot of rumors that the child wasn't his, but since she had a charm over her that would actually kill her if she slept with another man he didn't mind them, only stopped them with a few rows of Crucio that landed Parkinson and Flint in the Healing Wing for a couple of weeks. Voldemort didn't comment nor punished him, it was the right thing to do.

"In another three months milord. We're planning a big party by then."

"I understand that it is a boy?"

"With Merlin's help, it is." Riddle smirked to himself. He always wondered how any child of his would be like.

"At that party, Antonin, something will happen. I believe that you are aware that in a month's time there will be a meeting with the council for discussing strategies."

"I know, the event will be at the party won't it?"'

"Yes. I am sorry to spoil your happiness as a parent but it is the perfect date and timing for an event of that dimensions to happen."

"So you are going to keep it under complete secrecy then?"

"Always reading between the lines. Of course I will, there will be a pre-meeting with you, Lucius, Avery, Nott and Rosier to reveal you the plan and the course of action. During the discussion of strategies your presence will not be required since every one of you will be set up with a task."

"Very well my lord. I will inform the rest."

"Good. You may go now!"

Dolohov got up the chair, nodded respectfully and headed towards the door. When it cracked open there were screams on the other side. Someone was trying to break a door.

"My lord. I believe that Bellatrix got out of the hospital wing and trying to break your door."

"Send Mcnair there" He was testing Mcnair every step of the way to be sure if he was worthy of trust or not ",or Granger will kill her."

"Don't you want to watch the show, milord?" Dolohov asked smiling. He was clearly entertained. "Bella is rather getting kicked."

A loud scream echoed among the walls.

"What's happening?" Voldemort asked, still looking uninterested, comfortably lounging on his desk.

"Well, it seems that Bella will spend the next weeks in the Healing wing too."

"What did Granger do to her?" He asked rather casual.

"Well, she broke her wand and it appears that she sent her into a coma. The show's over. Good day my lord!" Dolohov greeted.

"Good day!" With that, the door closed rather soundly.

Dumbledore was an old coot with a brilliant mind. Indeed, he lost it along the way but it was foolish to think that the man didn't have brains. He got old, of course and his powers started to diminish but he fought till the very end. He died of a unworthy death but he remained in the Wizarding History and in Hermione Granger's heart forever.

Hermione got a soft spot for the old man. She couldn't imagine how he was when he was young, a student, but it didn't care. She knew that Dumbledore wasn't the type that was easy to read, you only knew about him what he wanted you to know. Of course there was that drama with his family but it didn't matter since he wasn't brought down by those events. He, along with Tom Riddle, were the perfect examples that one could be whatever the heart and mind desired, there were no limits.

When you are born in a magical world you do not understand the real value of magic because you were used to it since you were a little child. Dumbledore was a pureblood but he understood what power could magic hold, but he turned out that he lost, didn't he? Whereas, Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger were brought up in a world where people considered magic to be something idealistic, impossible to reach. That's when ambition kicked in for both of them, in different forms. Academic accomplishment isn't the exact equal with taking over the world but knowledge is power or so it is said to be.

Hermione was as usually over thinking everything. After her "dispute" with Bellatrix she only expected the worst. She knew that Voldemort won't allow her to get away unpunished but that bitch actually got on her nerves.

It all begun with a little mocking and ended up on hold – until Bellatrix got off the magical coma anyways.

Fuck it, there will be blood.

"Crucio."

Impossible pain was travelling from her heart to her brain and her limbs.

"What a wonderful way to greet me." She was still holding her head high in spite of being humiliated by the man she hated most In this entire world.

"You are not to speak." Lord Voldemort was not in a good mood. The little mudblood over passed her limits too many times in such a short period.

"You will not address me from now on directly. In twenty minutes you will be escorted out of the building to the Malfoy Manor. You will spend there the amount of time I deem necessary. During your stay there you will not address a word to anyone except house elves unless you are addressed first. You will not breathe, move or try something foolish like escaping. Consider it a vacation. Complete isolation."

"You are sending me away?"

"What does it look I am doing? Prepare yourself; Lucius will come to get you in a short time. I'd say see you soon but since you are going to be away for an undetermined amount of time I'll refrain myself. Stupefy!"

Hermione fell unconscious, her head falling gently against the floor. Riddle decided that it was the best thing to do since there was a possibility that Granger would fight her transition.

Behind the obvious reasons that he wanted Granger trained in order to help his army there was something else deep inside him that bothered him. He couldn't see the girl anymore, at least for a period of time. He became so used to her presence that when she wasn't around he actually missed her. That was a sign that he was actually _feeling _something and Lord Voldemort does not feel!

He really needed to cut the evil from the root and while sending her for the Manor to train he killed two rabbits with one shot.

There was a small knock at the door and the blond head of Draco Malfoy greeted him.

"My lord," He bowed, touching the ground. "is the mudblood ready for transportation?"

"Yes. Apparate her to the Manor. Tomorrow she will start training. I believe the orders for her accommodation are clear?"

"Yes my lord. May I depart now?" Malfoy asked with pleading eyes. It was common knowledge that the young boy feared him but he rather liked him that way.

"Go."

Draco grabbed Granger's body and apparated to the manor. Tom Riddle was standing in his favorite chair from his room, the chair that was previously occupied by her most of the time, looking at the empty spot where her body used to be.

_It's for the best, _he thought. _It's for the best._

Deciding that contemplating Granger's absence was doing nothing good for his empire Voldemort summoned Dolohov to his office. He really needed discussing his decisions with someone and Dolohov was always listening without asking too many questions.

"I sent her to the Manor to train."

"Yes my lord, it was a clever move indeed. She will be a most valuable asset and that can be proved by Bellatrix's state. By the way, how is she?"

"Recovering" Riddle answered, his hand rubbing his left temple. "She still can't move her feet but the Healer said that is temporary. She doesn't stop talking and begging me to let her kill Granger."

"Bellatrix has always been the one with an iron pride. Maybe she deserves a chance to prove herself?"

"No, it's too risky to expose Hermione in her state."

"Yes, you mentioned her illness." Dolohov looked rather smug, his eyes mocking Voldemord , attempting a joke. "My lord," he added, "may I ask you… what are your ulterior reasons for sending her to the Manor? You could have sent her in one of the castles in France or Germany. Some could say that is getting a preferential treatment"

Riddle was not taken aback by his comment. Dolohov was always the one to suspect the reasons behind his moves and he usually got it right. Slightly smiling, he addressed him, his hand never leaving his temple.

"I sent her there to heal. I know the disease, I had it myself. It is a phase that every master occulmens must suppress in order to use his powers fully."

Antonin nodded. It was the truth thought, but it was not enough. Tom Riddle didn't usually help people if he had no interest in them, but with Granger it looked like it was something more. Dare he say, _romantic_ interest?

"I understand my lord. Who will train her?"

"Snape."

Severus Snape wasn't a man who usually took apprentices. He despised the idea of transmitting his knowledge to idiots who thought they were interested in some subjects. He trained Granger because Dumbledore asked him so but that was it. Of course he admired the flawless work of the girl, he knew she was brilliant but that was it. To his mind she lacked the passion one needed to become a master. He knew from the moment Dumbledore sent her to him that she wasn't one to practice only light, pure, magic. With a mind like hers and such determination she could accomplish things greater than casting a flawless Fidelius Charm. Of course Dumbledore didn't understand that, for him it was only black or white, no shades of grey.

Snape was always who liked winners. During the war he was a part of both sides, a double agent, but neither considered in what he, as a person, really believed in. Constantly oscillating between the dark and the light he learned invaluable things that few persons could claim they knew.

It was his plan all along, being a winner. He changed sides until the final day when he decided that Voldemort was the one who will win, and stayed by his side.

When he was informed that he will train Granger again there were a lot of mixed feelings. He was actually happy with his life between his books and sometimes sluts on Knockturn Alley. A man had needs. Voldemort told him to initiate Granger in the dark arts, but he knew it was not an easy job. The girl was too strong minded. This will be a challenge indeed.

_Merlin, he loved challenges._

Hermione woke on a soft bed in an unknown room. The room was rather dull, with only a wardrobe, a bed and a desk that held a stack of parchment and some quills.

She sat up and remembered everything. That bastard stupefied her before she even got the chance of fighting back. For all she knew she was not in the Malfoy Manor. It looked that it was early in the morning, around 7 A.M by looking at the sun. There was a small window above the desk that was probably enchanted since Voldemort would never risk her to escape. At least she wasn't in a cell.

A house elf appeared with a "pop".

"Good morning missy. Fuzzy brought you breakfast?"

"Where am i?"

"At the Malfoy Manor, missy. Missy is your personal house elf and will help you with what you need. Is missy hungry?"

Hermione looked bedazzled; she just couldn't take advantage of that poor creature that was offered to her, like an object!

"No, thank you. I will get my own food it you show me where the kitchen is."

"Missy does not want Fuzzy's help?" Large green eyes were slowly filling with big, wet crocodile tears. "Fuzzy wants to help missy, Fuzzy is not good enough for missy. Fuzzy must punish herself."

With that, he elf reached the table and started banging her head against it violently.

"Fuzzy, you need to stop! Fuzzy!" Hermione screamed from the top of her lungs but the elf had no intention to stop whatsoever.

"Fuzzy. I need your help!" Slowly, like in a dream, the elf approached Hermione and looked at her with big, warm eyes.

"Missy wants Fuzzy's help? Fuzzy is happy, happy missy!"

"Please go and get me some food. And please call a person here to whom I can talk to."

"Of course, missy. Fuzzy is happy to help you.", the elf said disappearing with a pop.

The room was silent again for a few minutes but Hermione knew that it won't last long. She was at the Malfoy's for Merlin's sake, they were torturing people, maybe they were even keeping prisoners in here. She had to expect the worse, she had two.

Two loud pops interrupted her thinking. One was Fuzzy. The other… well…

"You!" Hermione stated calmly.

"Who did you expect?" A male voice answered.

"Well, certainly not a traitor." She replied dryly.

"You know that in a war winners are the only one that count, Miss Granger. Please refrain for offending me from now on since you have to at least respect me."

"Since when do I have to pay respect to you?" There was a hint of hate in her voice, only visible to him, of course. He knew the girl could very well hide her feelings. He thought her that.

"Since I was your teacher and your trainer for a very long time, dear!"

"Oh, so now I have bow before the _mighty _Severus Snape for even if he betrayed every ounce of belief the light side had! I will not, and you should know better than asking me to do that." There was ice in her voice; he could sense it from miles away.

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I came to tell you that tomorrow at 7 AM sharp your training will begin."

"That must be a joke!" Hermione's face was an epitome of amazement. Priceless.

"No, dear, I must inform you that I will be in charge with your training for the next month."

"Training? What do I need training for? I am merely a slave" She said, pointing her hands at herself.

"You no longer live in the world you used to know. Things change, beliefs change. The law will change."

"So what must I learn now? How to be an insufferable pureblood?"

"There are a lot of things you should know before we start our cooperation. Things that were taken away from you from the very start when you decided to choose the light. Dumbledore was an old fool who believed in nothing than love and loyalty, but you should know that life holds much more than that."

"What are you trying to say?"

"That your education is not complete, not even close. Dumbledore made me teach you only the things he deemed important. You will learn the basics of _all _magic. There is not only white magic in this world, Hermione. Mastering magic in all its glory means tasting all the flavors."

"So you're going to teach me dark magic."

"Well that wasn't hard, was it?" He replied, smirking in his characteristically way.

"I refuse!"

"Well, I believe that we will have to work on that!"

With that, he turned around billowing his robes – _I swear, this man really knows how to make a dramatic entry! _ - and dissapparated.

Lord Voldemort was lounging in his office, like he always did in the morning. It helped him think. He was expecting Snape who usually wasn't late. That meant that there was some sort of an argument with the arrogant mudblood. There was a soft knock on the door. Finally!

"Enter!" he said, his voice impassive.

"My lord!" Snape was standing there in all his glory: black robes, black hair and his wand in hand.

"I believe that everything worked well?"

"Yes, my lord. She is stubborn but I will work through it."

"I know." He paused for a few seconds. "The reason I called you here is not her training whatsoever."

"Pardon me my lord, but I believed that you wanted me to train her."

"I want you to heal her too?"

"Heal? Is she sick?" Snape was looking rather curious, not at all sympathetic.

"How sick can a master occulmens can get, Snape? I believe that you can tell me that."

"She reached the level?" Now Snape was rather annoyed but there was something else in his eyes. Pride?

"She did. I believe that you know that is there to do."

"I do. I should proceed immediately. I have the first session with her tomorrow and I will investigate then."

"Very well then. Good luck."

"My lord!" Severus stated before dissapparating.

Tom Riddle decided to heal Hermione Granger. Why did he do that? Well, that was a question he was trying to answer for a long time. First he decided that a mind of her shouldn't be wasted, and it was partially true. He won't lose the occasion to conquer her mind and her spirit. After that he realized that she really was a source of entertainment in his life. From the moment she entered his quarters everything seemed to change. He was even… human.

Yes, that was the real reason. She had tricks in her sleeve that made him human, and dare he say, he enjoyed it from time to time.

A.N. Care to say your opinion? Review


	5. Fire and ulterior interventions

I have always done the right thing. I have always done the right thing. I have always done the right thing.

Each blasted day at Hogwarts I had done the right thing. Every essay, every moment that I had to step in I was there. Isn't it ironic? Not I am all alone in the world.

I guess I liked to believe that doing the right thing at the right moment will earn some points for you later. You know who I am, always for the extracurricular activity. But this is not the case – life is not the case. I used to believe that the wheel will keep spinning and all the good things that I made to people will one day come back to me and I will be happy.

So, since I was a little child, I prepared my life for later. I made good deeds, kissed teachers in their ass, endured public humiliation from Malfoy and helped Harry Potter. Harry – his name is such a disgrace nowadays. The only good thing he did to me for now is to make me a trophy. Voldemort's trophy. Tom's trophy.

Fuck fighting, I prefer silence. Fuck training, I prefer books and damn it all fuck love, I just want peace.

Yet I have tasted him. He tasted like cinnamon and blueberries. He tasted like peace and war. Like dark magic but most of all, like passion.

Every time his lips brushed against mine, even that only time, I felt it in every single fiber of my body. His lips were cold, ice cold but I could not get enough of that taste, I could not find that power in myself to stop him. I knew that probably I stood no chance; there were far too many barriers between us too for me to succeed. There were his hands, slowly caressing, his eyes, piercing my mind, and there was him, inside of me. And it was unique.

I have tasted him but only on the outside. Because I know he never truly let me in his head, damn it, I am certainly that no one ever saw into his mind.

But how are we alike?

We are not.

There are only some coincidences that marked our life: we both attended Hogwarts and we are both wizards. But this is It. He had greatness, he _is _greatness and I am not that great to reach for him. I could never even dream about it, it's forbidden. We both had the beauty of choice, but sometimes life is simple without it.

Adam and Eve were some lucky bastards from this point of view: they only had one another; there was no one else around them. There were no temptations, no desire to conquer except for the other one. There was no need to look in other directions than in the eyes of the one that is near you. And this is how love was born. They were given no choice but to love each other, treason was out of question and so was envy. They had nothing, not even clothes. And there was no need to battle. Battle for what? For an aimless eternity of misery? I believe that there are many that already dismissed that quest.

And last but not least, there was no desire to kill. If you killed the other you killed yourself. If you hurt the other you hurt yourself.

I said that the option of having an option is pure beauty, but why is that? Because this entire world is made of strands that in their complexity mingle into a knot that no one can ever untie? Because every single option I ever had was doubled, and tripled on its way to infinity?

I find myself wanting Tom Riddle. In the purest way: without clothes, without mind-blocks, without strands. Without an old man called Dumbledore who had a voice inside my head which said that it pointless. Aimless? I want him empty and naked in front of me, I want his secrets and his lies. I want to feel - not conquer - his power.

Fuck, Hermione.

A loud pop interrupted my silence.

"Fuzzy." I acknowledged her.

"Missy, Fuzzy is here to take you to your first class."

"I figured" I responded quickly. I knew that there was something in his mind, and that he wanted something from me that didn't necessarily fit with what I wanted from him.

I pulled my curled into a bum and left the room.

I entered a spacious tall room with dark grey curtains touching the ground. There was no one there. At the back of my head there was a voice telling me that it's not ok.

And then it came.

My head is spinning, my mind is bare. My head is spinning my mind's not there. My head…

Because he kept piercing into my mind like it was some kind of tomato that he loved cutting with a long, sharp, knife.

I would like much to stop trying, to let him in, to give up. Really, fuck life and fuck fighting, I want to give up. I just want to find myself in an ocean of peace. There should be silence anywhere, like you were in a coma, and you heard nothing, needed nothing, asked no questions. I would like so much to feel so numb, to stare into the infinity and don't be scared. There were some places in this world that used to make me feel that they hold all the silence in the world – for example the Astronomy tower. I would like so much to stop fighting…

But after all, isn't this life about an eternal struggle? And who knows what else is there after death? No one can have that certainty. Millions and millions of years they tried to speculate, they tried to say that there is heaven or hell, peace or torture. But why is there the earth right in the middle? I believe that it gives us a taste of what will we have for eternity.

What's the right path?

"So many questions, Miss Granger."

Severus Snape looked smug in his black robes that were touching the ground.

"It's you!" My voice didn't sound as strong and I wanted it to be.

"Who else would it be? Did you honestly think that the training the dark lord assigned you was a day in a flower garden? Really, Granger, you really need to be a bit more realistic about life."

"Yeah, and you are going to teach me all about love and mercy and peace and we are all going to live into a dark little happy world and then die! Fuck off Snape.!"

"Crucio!" The tall man got his wand out of his robes and threw a curse in a quick, precise move.

"Impedimenta" I ditched it quite nicely.

"You still have your reflexes though. Good to know."

"War!" I stated as a matter-of-factly. "You are an ignorant If you believe that I will ever believe a thing you will attempt to teach me!" His face showed no signs of caring, it never did. In order to keep my hands occupied I rearranged my bum.

"And you, Granger, are a single-minded moron soon-to-be housewife if you believe into the crap you've been taught at Hogwarts."

"How dare you, you insolent…" But I was cut off quickly by his Bat Boogey Hex. Damn, he was good at it. Even rivaling Ginny's.

"Glad to have you back Granger, the first class will be tomorrow at 6 A.M. sharp. If you are late you die. If you do not come you will die. If you fake sickness you will die. With that, he left the room, his robes even more scary than usually. It was an art, Hermione thought, billowing your robes like that.

Snape entered Lord Voldemort's office and saluted him. Tom was as stiff as a rock, pretending to read some papers but it was obvious to Severus that his mind was somewhere else. Of course it was, nobody could keep a clear mind when a fireball like Granger was in the equations.

"How did it go?" Riddle asked without lifting his eyes from the papers.

"As expected. She is not willing. There was a confrontation and curses. I need more time with her."

"You will have all the time in the world if you convince her to take the mark."

"To be honest, my lord, I believe that the day is far ahead in the future. She seems to be lost in thought. I pierced her mind."

"You did?" This seemed to catch Riddle's interest and made him lift his eyes from the papers he wasn't reading in the first place. "How?"

Severus knew the exact meaning of the question. Granger's mind wasn't something easy to pierce. Those defense walls were famous for misleading anyone who dared to enter her mind. But this time, it was different. He only heard fragments of her thought, without images. It was like a song played in her mind over and over again. The words were as if written and she was reading them, chose with precision and cleverness, not aimless sentences.

"I believe that she was letting me, my lord, otherwise I find no other explication for hearing her thoughts. Nobody could ever crash her walls, and in her current state it is a complete idiocy to try and enter her mind because she will remain trapped in there and with a bit of luck, I would too. I prefer hell to being stuck with Granger for the rest of my life." Tom smirked adorably. It was not the smirk of an evil dark lord, but of a boy that discovered a new toy.

"What exactly did you hear, Severus?"

The professor smiled to himself.

"Well, my lord, there was something about you being naked."

Tom looked surprised for a moment.

"You are dismissed Severus. I have a lot of paperwork to attend."

"Very well my lord."

Tom turned his look towards the stash of old paper. He really needed to think.

He knew Snape was not telling him everything. Well, Snape never told anyone anything and he may as well be the only one who could get away with it.

So Her-… Granger was having fantasies with him. Good. But why did she let Snape in her head of all the people. There was no other way to explain this than pure madness. The mudblood's gotten mad.

Only the thought of her fantasizing about him made him aroused.

Of course he wanted her, in his bed that is.

He wondered what it would be like if he allowed her to control him. It would hurt, that was true, but it would be like fire.

He really needed to decide what to do with that erection, and moreover, with Hermione. Maybe he should make a trip to the manor.

Fuck, Granger. It's GRANGER.

The Malfoy Manor stood in all its greatness dominating all the surrounding grounds. There are many things that could describe that building but the most pregnant of them all was "imposing". Like all the members of the family, Hermione thought.

It's been three whole days with her staying there but she wasn't allowed in any other room than her own. She hadn't even seen Malfoy senior or junior for that fact and that turned out to be eternally pleasing. If she didn't have to face Snape every day from now on maybe she could think she was on a vacation of some sort.

Oh but that was not true, not true at all.

She figured that out when Fuzzy apparated into her room and told her she was permitted to wander into the rose garden. That brought up a smile in her mind realizing that it was probably Snape's doing. That man really had an acute sense of irony.

So why waste the time then? Let's wander in that doomed rose garden.

She fixed her robes and took the elf's tiny hand in her own and side-apparated into a huge garden filled with multi-colored roses. The smell was almost intoxicating, sweet and heavy, making her eyelids close and her senses go wild.

"I would not suggest you to do that." The voice was coming from her backside, relaxed and slightly ironical. She snapped from her reverie and turned quickly to face her interlocutor.

"Draco. How pleasant to meet you here." Hermione faked a smile.

"Where, Granger?" Draco, who looked as smug as always, motioned with his hands around him. "In my own house?"

"No, in a rose garden."

"You know it belongs to me, don't you?" His eyebrow slightly tilted up.

"Oh, it's just a matter of speech!" Hermione stated breathlessly.

Draco snapped violently at her, grabbing her wrist painfully, but she didn't let a sound get out of her mouth. No, she will not back down in front of to devil.

"You know that even the ground you step on belongs to me, little piece of dirt. And you also know that you were permitted to wander around my grounds because the dark lord asked me to in order for you not to get insane. I would probably have preferred it that way, but an order is an order and I prefer my life above your insanity. But don't forget, mudblood, for me you will always be nothing but a piece of dirt and it will stay this way. Enjoy your stay here, and stay away from the poisoned roses!"

What was that all about? Draco Malfoy finally got his period? And at the end he… _winked? _This is highly inappropriate for a pureblood to behave, they never lost their temper. Something was on here… She'd better made her way out this blasted garden as soon as possible, and with that, she started walking.

Reaching her room she realized there was something off.

There was something missing.

_Oh Hermione, you fool, of course there is something missing: your mind and your luggage. _Her mind snapped at her

Why were her personal items – even if they could be counted on the finger of her left hand – missing?

Oh my god!

Of course!

Those bastards made her get out of her room in order to move her somewhere else. But when she started thinking about motives her vision fogged, her legs started feeling weird all of a sudden and she fell down on the floor.

With the last bit of consciousness, she swore loudly:

"Merlin damn your damn roses, Narcissa!"

Hermione lay on a soft bed. She was woken from her semi-coma by a beautiful blonde woman which made her believe that she was Narcissa Malfoy.

The woman was indeed beautiful; her hair clipped in an elegant bum, and looked deliciously flushed when she was muttering all kinds of spells to wake her up.

"You must be Narcissa Malfoy." Hermione muttered, slightly unconscious.

"Your guess is right." A delightful voice filled the room. It was strong, dominant, but feminine nonetheless.

"_He _made you heal me?" The curly girl asked with a sincere but arrogant voice.

"There is no need for arrogance in this room Miss Granger. I must reassure you that you are still in my house and playing by my rules. Since I do not deem necessary the use of the "mudblood" word while referring to you, I prefer that tone out of your conversation. For your information, no, he did not ask me to heal you."

Hermione lifted an eyebrow confused. Was Narcissa Malfoy _nice _to her? No, it was just an illusion, she must be dreaming.

"Pardon my tone but I find myself being a little defensive nowadays with my new "slave" position."

"I understand." The blonde woman had a small smile playing on her lips, like she was laughing from an inside joke.

"Why your concern for me then?"

"Well, I know for one sure that women are more receptive to some things than man. One of those is that if the dark lord wanted you dead he would have sent you at the end of the world, or better yet at his barracks in Russia. The idiots I call son and husband have no idea what subtlety means."

"He has a barrack in Russia?" Hermione lifted from the bet and got herself into a sitting position. This was beginning to be interesting.

"That's beside the point. I am not allowed to give you further information."

"It's not like I am going to use it, or to have a way of using it. I am just surprised that he got that far."

"You should never underestimate him. He'd got Hogwarts when he was a teenager and he's halfway into conquering the world. I do believe that he deserves more credit."

"You are involved with him." At this remark Narcissa's perfect eyebrows twitched a little and her smile turned into a big grim.

"We share some sort of partnership. Perfectly confidential, of course. Our "treaty" involves us two and that is it."

The wheels in Hermione's head started spinning fast. That was it…

"I never understood the reason why the Malfoys were so respected into the Death Eater world, but now I get it. It was you all along. You were always watching their backs when they were screwing up everything."

"Smart girl." Narcissa looked at her like a mother looks at her child. But in her eyes was something else. It was not jealousy and not hate. It was… fondness. "He will want to see you. Torture you a little maybe, toy with your mind, but I believe that you already knew that."

"Can I avoid it somehow?" Granger asked slightly disturbed by the idea of having Tom around her.

"Let's see what I can do."

After Narcissa threw one last, knowing look, she quickly departed from the room with no further sound.

When Tom Riddle reached the Malfoy Manor he was received with many honors, mostly coming from Narcissa. That woman was highly attentive. There was such luck on those Malfoy "men" to have such a woman around them, they probably would have ended up dead for so many times if that clever sneaky blonde woman wouldn't have mixed in some fairly private business.

"Where's the mudblood?" Tom asked. His voice was strong, pertinent.

"Sedated as you asked us, my lord" A cool voice greeted him.

"What did you use?"

"The rose garden", Lucius stated, his voice filled with content. He was probably very proud of what his mind could come up with.

"Is she unconscious?" Tom asked, his features roughed a little.

"Yes my lord. You asked us to sedate her!"

"Crucio!" And the spell got out of Riddle's wand. "You incapable morons. I have asked you to sedate her not to make her FAINT! How many times do I have to tell you that she is currently under a condition that is highly dangerous if she loses her overactive thinking. Take me to her and pray for her to wake up."

"My deepest apologies, my lord. The mudblood was taken care of; she is not conscious and talking a lot. I have taken her to another room far away from the rose poisoning." A feminine voice echoed in the room.

"Narcissa." Tom acknowledged. A tall blonde feminine form arose from a dark wooden door. She was looking as stunning as usually, the perfect incarnation of a pureblooded woman. She was wearing a dark blue dress with a low cut exposing a lot of cleavage. She was, indeed, beautiful. Not any man in his right state of mind could not appreciate what was in front of him.

"My apologies, my lord, for any inconvenience." She said in a warm, manipulative voice.

Tom Riddle smiled. The wits this woman had. Lucius is definitely a moron for not appreciating what he had. She was indeed a piece of art.

"You are excused, Narcissa. And for you two –"Riddle pointed her wand towards the two man of the Malfoy family "- you will face my wrath. But not today. Take me to the mudblood."

"My lord, the mudblood is currently resting and any disturbance these moments can be fatal for her. I believe that it would be wiser to wait a few more days to let the effect of the poison pass, and then you could do whatever you wanted with her. It is safer this way."

Narcissa crossed her arms, looking defensive in front of the dark lord. Her face held high, her nose in the air, she held her ground.

"There are so many women in this world, Narcissa -" Tom Riddle begun "- and I am sure that not one of them is like you. After so many years I still have not discovered your reasons. But trust me, I will find your ulterior reasons." Riddle smiled appreciatively.

"I'm sure you will, my lord, I never doubted it."

"After you are done taunting each other, with all the respect, my lord, I would like further orders with the mudblood" Lucius interfered, looking positively irritated by the exchange of words between _his _wife and _his _lord.

"Idiot" Riddle snapped. "Crucio!"

A wand waved lazily and Lucius was hitting not so lasciviously the floor.

A day passed.

And after that a week.

Another one.

Tom found himself lost between bits of paperwork and missions. He needed Granger, and fast. He needed help with his research and he was certain about the fact that Granger could easily beat every lousy excuse of a candidate for a strategist.

He knew that all that time he fought her, not the whole Order of the Phoenix. They were incapable of understanding something as trivial as primary magic, much less to disturb his plans all the time.

From the time she was captured everything became hilariously easy for him. He was surprised that nobody organized any attempt to rescue her, but they were idiots who could not distinguish red from green much less brilliance from a simple girl.

But besides her intellectual capacity, he needed her. He needed her body, that forbidden warm body between his sheets.

He needed to feel her again and it was beginning to be disturbing.

In a matter of seconds he grabbed his cloak and apparated to the Malfoy Manor where he was again greeted by a house elf and asked to see Narcissa.

Much to his amazement, Narcissa was drinking tea on the terrace and quite engaged in a conversation with a certain curly – haired girl.

He headed for the table quickly, hoping to catch a word or two from the conversation but it was useless, it was like women could sense foreign presence and change the subject quickly.

"Narcissa, Mudblood." Coming from his mouth, the salute sounded almost nice.

"Oh, My lord, what a pleasure to find you here. When did you arrive?"

"A couple of minutes ago." Voldemort answered, sounding a little irritated. "You seem to be enjoying yourselves." He acknowledged.

"Well," Narcissa started, "it was a wonderful day and I had no company for a tea. Since Lucius and Draco are both on missions I figured that miss Granger could easily entertain me with my her mudblood ways.

"Interesting." Riddle was getting more suspicious by the moment. There was something off about those two. And the mudblood was rather quiet. What had happened there?

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Riddle asked Hermione.

Hermione, who until then had been silent, opened her mouth to speak:

"Nobody asked me anything." Clear and simple. A statement. Something was really off.

"Narcissa, if you may, I would like to have a word with Miss Granger alone." Riddle stated imperatively.

"Of course my lord." Narcissa lifted off the chair and departed slowly.

There were a few minutes of awkward silence, but Riddle, inpatient as ever, broke it.

"I see you are enjoying your stay here. Do not trust Narcissa, do not trust anyone. You still have no identity, and in my eyes you are just a slave who has a free pass because he can clean toilets better than others. Do not mistake my treating with kindness because you will be impossibly wrong. And as a know-it-all you must really hate being wrong. If you love your life just a little bit you will do exactly as you are ordered and not drop any unwanted commentary. Did I make myself understood?"

"Yes." Hermione answered with an impassive voice. Her face showed no emotion during his little well prepared speech just for her thing that made him vengeful.

"What's wrong with you?" Anger could be tasted on his tongue and in his voice.

"I was merely thinking." Granger answered.

"About what?"

"Well, if I wanted everybody to hear it I would have said it out loud, wouldn't I?"

Graciously, Hermione lifted up from the chair and headed towards him. She was approaching him with steady, controlled steps until his chin almost brushed her forehead. With a determined move she brushed her lips onto his chest, starting fire through his veins. Even through the clothes, he was feeling her as strong as that night, that was to be forgotten by both of them. The kiss lasted a few seconds, yet the fire still persisted.

Hermione turned her back at him and walked towards the house. He attempted nothing to stop her. There was no use of it.

Tom Riddle felt fire through his body until later that night when he extinguished it with a few shots of alcohol.

He needed to see her again. At this point, she was the key either to his rise or his fall.

You could fight fire with fire, but is the damage afterwards worth it?

He could kill her and there was no more danger.

He could lover her and endanger every step he ever took.

He could have her completely and rule the world.

In each of these options there was a flaw that he didn't see.

Her mind.


	6. The teapot and the kettle

**A.N. I would really like to "apologize" for my intense description of Hermione and Tom's feelings, but the truth is, they write themselves. I know that it can be really boring sometimes to read long paragraphs of intense struggling but trust me, there is nothing I can really do. I really appreciate the feedback you've been giving me and I would like to thank waterflower20, blissmoonb, Avaline Malfoy and Aninha Flavia for reviewing. **

And now, on with the chapter…

I had a few good moments in my life for which I was grateful. First, there was Hogwarts – but it shouldn't count since I quickly started to hate that I was a witch. Secondly, meeting Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and his friend, Ron Weasley. For the opportunity of watching them grow, be the men the could be I will be eternally grateful.

I loved the days and nights that we spent together, I loved to watch them, to admire them. In the first year they were just little boys who believed that sticking fingers in their noses was the best activity in the world. But they grew up, faced dangers that millions of people had no idea they existed.

I quickly understood why they still wanted to show to the world that they were irresponsible – it was just a taste of the live they could have had without Voldemort.

They loved me, this is for sure. They loved every step I took, and they admired my intelligence, but in the end, they understood that it was not just foolish bravery that helps you to acquire victory.

So they matured quickly and in a few years the boys I knew, those two who were as adorable as little new born kittens reached their potential. Watching them grow I watched myself grow. Watching Ron doing his homework, watching Harry training or better yet, listening to discussions about politics quickly made me understand that we are not little children anymore. We had a voice, we had arms and legs, we had potential and we started using it.

The first time I started training was because Harry suggested me to, saying that it was a good way to keep your body healthy and your mind as well. I was of course attracted by the second argument but in a week time I started training nonetheless.

It was hard at first. For a know it all like me doing pushups, running around Hogwarts every day miles and miles, but as soon as I started to ignore the pain and the tiredness I understood what Harry meant. Everything changed, from the way I dressed to the way I ran down the halls between classes. As soon as I was good enough to start magical training Dumbledore called me to his office under the pretext of giving me some vital information about a nameless potion. Crap. It was only the excuse.

Reaching his office, I saw Snape sitting near him. Snape was introduced to me as being my future teacher in dueling and occulmency. I gaped at his words: that could not be possible, for all I knew Lupin was the one who teached Ron and Harry was taught by Dumbledore himself. Why couldn't I have one of them?

The answer came to me very quickly. Dumbledore explained that the training must be made by a person who had similar qualities with the student. Oh, I got that part. Dumbledore was as foolish as Harry, always with the belief that good will triumph over evil. Crap. Ron had the exact same expectation from life as Lupin. They both wanted a quiet life, a happy life, with children and a loving wife. Double crap.

But me? What did I have in common with that bat? Nothing I assumed. But after looking at the matter closely I understood that we were the same in so many places that I was even scary. There was the same thirst for knowledge, the same behavior of rejecting the ones we do not deem necessary for our life. We didn't have many friends, I, for example, considered it to be lost time. Of course, I had Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny and Neville but that was it. I did anything I could for them; I gave them the best of me.

Snape had Dumbledore and his Voldemort. He swore his loyalty to both, and even if they both knew he was a traitor they made no move to dismiss him. Why? Because he was a powerful wizard, one who could bring endless supplies to a kingdom, much like me.

And so my training began. Endless hours of torture, endless nights of staying awake doing nothing but resisting Snape's attempts to break my mind.

I never broke down. He taught me spells, legal spells, unknown to most but extremely powerful and efficient. He explained to me that the power I must use is the one of my mind. Throwing unknown, obscure spells was just as efficient as a Crucio. No shielding spell could stop them and they were fast and effective enough to make powerful wizards crumble. But not Voldemort. No, I knew that he had an ace in his sleeve that could easily beat any of my attempts.

There were nights where he tortured me with Crucio – to develop immunity to pain. I knew that Dumbledore would not approve of that but I told nothing.

There were nights where he made me go into the Forbidden Forest and fight whatever creature was in my way back. He made portkeys that transported me in a random place and from there I had to find my way back. He didn't interfere.

There were times where he made me destroy a random house in Hogwarts and made me rebuilt it with my bare hands – wandless magic.

I crawled on the floor, I begged him to stop. He didn't.

Sometimes, when I came from the Forbidden Forest I was wounded and more tired that I had ever been in my entire life.

He tended to my wounds and made me correct essays or write some.

He told me that the brain and the body must function perfectly together because a wizard as Voldemort could easily see the crack, the lack of coordination and strike exactly into my weakest point.

I understood then, but I hated him.

That pure hatred filled my heart as I did perfectly every time and he didn't even sketch a smile, but I owe it to him. Every ounce of strength in my body is due to him, but I wouldn't do it again.

No, I wouldn't do it again.

But I have to.

Severus Snape was quite anxious to start his training with the little mudblood. He told nobody but he quite enjoyed it the last time. She had been one of his brightest students, she never burst into tears, she never broke down, not that he expected to.

He understood as soon as Voldemort assigned him to train her that he knew about their past as teacher and student and he agreed with his methods of teaching.

Of course she knew the basis of how this is going to be but there was something different this time. This was dark magic, this was something that If not controlled it would it you from inside out letting you a shell.

Riddle managed to control it, he managed to control it successfully too. There were other persons which flirted with it but never had enough courage to push their limits – Narcissa for example. But Narcissa was smart, cunning, and intelligent. She used many other means than pure, raw, magic to achieve her means. He always admired that woman because she had an iron hand and the looks of a goddess.

When Hermione Granger apparated in front of his eyes he couldn't believe it.

The girl was just the same, the only difference was that her hair was tamer and longer and her eyes showed much more wisdom than the last time he saw her.

"Good morning miss Granger."

"Good morning. I believe that you already know the parameters of the time we will spend together."

"I do. You've made it pretty clear the last time." Granger looked almost enthusiastic, like she was at a class at Hogwarts. Too bad this will be as close as she will ever get to being a child again.

"Things have changed." Severus's face looked as if he was contemplating something. This didn't happen very often.

"Whereas the last time you were initiated in the light magic, you must understand there are different ways to treat dark magic. It is more active and by any means extremely sensitive. It connects to you and your body and if you are not strong enough to master it, it will be your downfall."

"I understand, sir."

"Good. You will do exactly as I tell you and will not open your mouth unless you are asked. If you have questions feel free to ask me at the end of every session since dark magic requires a higher grade of concentration and knowledge than the light one." After making a small pause, he continued. "Did you ever use dark magic?"

Hermione looked slightly embarrassed but answered quickly.

"I did sir. A few jinxes and curses but not ritual since they require additional help that I could not get in Hogwarts."

"Who would have thought…" Snape smile mockingly "the little mudblood had underground activities than saving the world." He let out a deep, frightening laugh.

"I do not appreciate your name-calling, sir." Hermione answered infuriated.

"I thought you were not to open your mouth. Crucio!" Snape was quick enough but Hermione was quicker, throwing the first curse that came into her mind:

"_Diffindus Sanctis!_" A powerful shield emerged from her wand, making Snape's Crucio divide into small, innocent sparks.

Snape looked taken aback for a few moments but regained his posture immediately.

"Where did you learn that?"

"I have already told you, sir. Books. I am able to defend myself, even if from dark magic."

"Quite interesting spell you chose there. You need to learn. Our next meeting will be in three days and I assume that by then you will be over with them."

"With what?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"I will not curse you again because it would be useless. Take these" he offered her a pile of seven massive books."Read them. Learn them. We will practice. Next time I want you to know Black Magick."

"Excuse me sir, but I already know it." Hermione said with a smug look on her face.

"Infuriating know it all. Read the next two then, and if you do not know them by heart you will suffer the consequences, and trust me, the Forbidden Forrest will look as a candy store."

Severus turned on his heels and departed from the room. Hermione was left there, quite amazed by the meeting. This was going fairly well for a first meeting: she wasn't mortally wounded and she got some lectures. This was going actually great.

Spending time with Narcissa was becoming more and more of a delight. She was the kind of a woman who was shallow enough to let a child die for a piece of fine, expensive furniture but she was powerful enough to protect a family.

From the moment she came into Hermione's room to heal her, the bushy haired girl understood that knowing her will probably be a "one in a lifetime" opportunity, so she took it.

Since the first day she was healed she developed some sort of tradition with Narcissa, and that was drinking tea on a parlor. Sure, it was a great tea, but the company was even greater. She was not pushy, she knew her limits as any well grown pureblooded woman. There were times when they just talked and they were times when they just drank her teas in complete silence, without any awkward moment.

Yes, Mrs. Malfoy was truly a strong woman.

After her lesson with Snape, Fuzzy came into Hermione's room and told her she was expected on the parlor. The day was running smoothly.

She reached the terrace and Narcissa was already there, drinking quietly from her tea. She gently saluted Hermione and motioned her to sit down and Hermione did as she was told.

After a few minutes of looking at the view – which was of course gorgeous, with white, tall fountains and wonderfully tended trees – Narcissa was the first to say a word.

"I saw you yesterday with Tom." After a few seconds of silence Hermione answered on a neutral tone.

"I figured. Does he allow you to call him Tom?"

"Well, I believe that I am one of the few women who is allowed to address him and hold a normal conversation to him."

"It does not surprise me. He seems to be fond of you. You two have a past together?" Hermione turned her head towards the blonde woman but found nothing but amusement in her eyes.

"No, we are friends. Good friends. He knows that I am devoted only to Lucius."

"I admire your devotion."

"Many do, but they do not fully understand the reasons. Lucius is like a baby sometimes, he needs directions and fuel for his actions and provide him with both. He gave me a good life and a wonderful son and he also gave me love."

"I cannot ask life for something like this."

"You already did. I saw you and I saw Tom. He is boiling inside and fights with every fiber of his being his attraction towards you."

"He just wants me for my brain and my capacity."

"Well, keep believing that. But remember that you are playing with a very dangerous fire."

"I did not ask for any of this." Hermione responded, slightly irritated.

"Neither did I, but we must adjust to the circumstances."

"I will break under his hands, I know it for sure."

"Wait and see." Narcissa's eyes looked as if they held some uncommon knowledge.

"What are you not telling me?" Hermione asked intuitively.

"Always the smart one, my dear. If you are into this fight you should know that there were many who wanted him, as a man and as a lord."

"I figured that but from what I know he was never interested in them."

"He was not, but those women killed for him, destroyed legions and ended up dead. The only one who is still alive is Bellatrix, and that is thanks to you."

"Not quite fond of her, I see."

"She is a blunt, stupid person blinded by lust. If Tom decides to make you his you will face big trouble."

"I am not sure I want to give in."

"There is no choice, my dear. It's either that or death."

Silence filled the table and the tea cups refilled. The day was soon ending.

Antonin Dolohov was in a middle of a discussion with the dark lord when someone interrupted rudely.

Snaped entered the room moments after.

"I assume that you came there to tell me about the training" Tom stated.

"Yes, sir. It is all working well at the moment and I discovered that she already has some knowledge of dark arts."

"This is not suprising," Antonin interfered "the mudblood is known to be a know it all and since she finished reading all the books at Hogwarts she probably started the restricted section ones. I bet she knows them all by heart."

"Antonin," Tom started "always drawing conclusions. I did not know that you had so much knowledge of the mudblood."

"You never forget the people you curse, or that is what they say." Antonin said, with a smile on his face. Tom immediately understood that he was referring to the Department of Mysteries.

"Snape, you are excused."

"Good day, my lord."

After Snape left the room Tom turned to Dolohov.

"How is all going in Russia?"

"Well, my lord, the Russians are known for their aggressive magic and their over developed muggle weapons. We have two spies who pose for muggle weapon dealers on the black market and we are to make connections soon. I believe that we are in for the attack on the prime minister in three months time."

"Good. Germany?"

"They are still strong minded but manipulation seems to be working so far. I believe that soon we will have some support from them but we need an ambassador there to keep things under control and the ministrations of terror constant."

"Send McNair. He always loved his good share of Germans. You are excused not, I have some business to attend to."

Dolohov's face turned into a wrinkled amused expression.

"Does it involve the mudblood, sir?"

"If you are not careful with your language it might involve your life."

Tom apparated at the Malfoy manor seconds later. It was beginning to feel like a tradition.

I, Hermione Granger, understood today what love is about.

Love is not about protecting the one you love, it's not about that pure feeling you have when you hold a baby in your hand and want to protect it from all the evil in the world. That's just care. That means you care.

When I think about Tom Riddle I am perfectly conscious about the fact that he will hurt me, physically and psychically. He will want to break me, to make me fall into little pieces that cannot easily mend together but this fact does not make me hate him. No, au contraire, it make me want him more.

I could easily endure every ounce of torture he inflicts on me with pride and my head held high because it comes from him. That's a part of him that I am willing to know.

The only thing that I am afraid about is treason. I could not stand that and I know that I will never be allowed to do that to him too. If I could dedicate all my life to a goal It would be him and him only. Our interests would coincide, out lived would flow on the same line.

But this is only in a hypothetical world where I could be near him.

No, this is not by far the situation right now.

Of course, when I got back from my tea and found him in my room, lounging on the bed I am sleeping on looking so carless and relaxed something twitched inside of me. His face was half covered with a few elegant black curls, perfectly complimented by the black of his trousers and the sheer white of his perfectly ironed shirt. He was holding in his hand a little piece of paper that I recognized being the one that he left me that time we slept together.

"I see that you kept that." He motioned to the paper and then to me.

"I wanted to inspect it for deadly curses or maybe see if it's poisoned." I smiled.

"The only poisons that you're going to find are these three words. "I love you", it says, but my guess is that you already knew that."

"And why these words would poison me?" I asked.

"Because they are written by me. I, Lord Voldemort, the one who is known not to be capable of love wrote that on a paper and it came out ridiculously easy."

"I do understand where're you're coming from but why the need to explain me the meaning of the note?"

"Because I need you to understand that words are nothing else but words. It's simple as that."

Hermione's face turned a little pale and her voice held a little tremble.

"Why the long face, Granger?" Tom asked.

"It's hurt. I can take it." She replied, making him curious.

"Why?"

"Because it's from you."

Riddle smile deeply at her answer. Odd indeed, the mudblood hasn't yet jumped at his neck, trying to strangle him or do other weird things.

"Does that mean you can endure this?" With a shift move of his hand he threw her on the bed, near him. Hermione's hair flowed through the air and when she landed on the bed there was a mass of massive dark brown curls around her head. Riddle took the opportunity of confunsing her and reached her hands, pinning her to the bed, laying all his weight onto her.

His grim didn't once change; he really looked like a 10 year old receiving a new toy.

"If I allow it does not mean I have to endure it." Hermione made an unexpected comeback jumping onto him with all her strength, her legs suffocating his abdomen and her hands his chest. She wanted to throw them off the bed so she could be above him, to teach him a lesson but then it happened. Her lips accidentally touched his neck in the process and she felt him his body stiffen. She immediately decided the next course of action.

"What's the matter Mister Riddle?" She whispered quietly into his neck. She had, indeed, a long fight with herself if she should give in and just grab onto him close and just feel him, or torture him a little. She chose the latter.

He shivered a little from her world but that was it. It was an undetectable shiver that she was happy to detect since she literally was all over him.

"You're playing." He acknowledged.

"With fire, I know." She smiled into the crook of his neck. "I've been told this pretty often lately."

With renewed strength he violently pinned her again onto the bed and started ravishing her lips. And there it was: her scent, her moves, her being deliciously inexperienced with passion outburst – they all made a delicious cocktail that Voldemort was delighted to taste over and over again. A hand travelled from her thigh to her abdomen, resting on her left breast.

There were shivers and then there were small, soft sighs of an underlying wish.

"M…Mister?" A pitched voice interrupted their silent body conversations. Fuzzy, the house elf, stood there looking horrified by the scene that was taking place in front of him. Tom looked up at him but saw nothing but intense terror.

"Oh Merlin damn these house elves! They always pop into the most unwanted moments." Hermione was still numb and only understood what happened when Tom got off the bed and grabbed his wand.

"Aveda Kedevra!"

And there was silence. And after that Hermione screaming.

"YOU KILLED MY HOUSE ELF!" Frizzy curls, undeniable rage and red cheeks were after all delicious too. But that made Tom Riddle understand that it was better for him to go. And he did.

"No, no, no, sir! You are not going to leave! You are going to face the consequences!" a hand grabbed onto him on his way out. Damn, he should have thought of apparition.

"Oh. And what you are going to do now? Punish me?" He laughed, hard and loud.

"Oh I'll be damned if I do not do that Riddle! Stupefy!" He was taken aback by her curse and stumbled a few steps backwards.

"Somnus Totallus!" he threw in Hermione's direction and she fell asleep instantly.

And that is why Tom Riddle hated house elves.

Narcissa was very well aware of what was happening inside her house but did nothing to stop it. It was useless to stop those children – even though Tom didn't actually qualify as a child anymore, he acted like one! But when Riddle apparated on her doorstep she knew something was off.

"I killed your house elf. I'll send another tomorrow." Riddle told her.

"Oh." That was all she could say."

"I need you to give Hermione etiquette lessons." He continued.

"I understand. May I ask what for?"

"Dolohov's wife will have her child soon and there will be party. I want to take Hermione with me."

"As your companion?"

"As my mistress, since there is no term to describe what we are doing better."

"I understand my lord. I will start tomorrow. How's Hermione?"

"Sleeping. Sleep charm. Wake her up as soon as I go. Where's Lucius?"

"In his office, my lord. Do you want to see him?"

"I will."

"Lucius." Tom's deep voice made Malfoy aware.

"My Lord."

"I want a gathering tonight. No exception permitted. All the ranks."

Lucius's rather pale face turned even paler.

"Is there a reason my lord?"

"There is always a reason. There will be a mission. Tonight."

"Of course, my lord, I will immediately announce everybody."

"Good. You have 10 minutes. I'll wait in the conference room at the palace."

Half an hour later, time wasted because Lucius's inefficiency in using floo powder all the ranks were gathered in a huge room. Voldemort, albeit with his snake face now, was standing proudly on his throne thinking about other things than his death eaters. Maybe about Hermione.

After a few seconds of silence he got up and started a speech.

"It had come to my knowledge that there is still a résistance of the light side somewhere in the Alps. There aren't many, ten, maybe fifteen. They are unarmed and are known to be Potter's last friends. I want you to capture them, bring them here unharmed. For every scratch you will pay with your life. Did I make myself understood?"

"Yes my lord!" A sea of voices responded.

"Very well then. You have till midnight. I want them all. You decide the course of action, the goal is bringing them here in one piece. Take it as a test. Dismissed." He motioned with his hand and they started dissaparating. "Snape. I need a word with you."

"Yes, my lord." A dark cloaked figure approached him.

"I trust you know what is this all about."

"Hermione I suppose?"

"Good guessing. I want her to practice dark magic more."

"Well, my lord, she already mastered the killing curse and Crucio. I do not know about Imperio but she seems to be knowing that one as well."

"Perfect" The snake face smiled. It was rather creepy but you got used to it. "I want Hermione to practice dark magic on her friends."

Snape stood still for a moment but responded none the less. "My lord, are you sure about this?"

"You don't think she has it inside of her?"

"Well, it is rather soon. I do not know is she will be doing this willingly."

"Then imperio her. Do whatever it takes. I want her to kill all her friends, one by one."

"What did she do?" Snape asked with a knowing voice.

"She yelled at me. She should understand where her place is."

"Sir, she is rather smart. She will understand that after that she has nothing else to lose."

"She will be killing the remains of her old life."

"Very well, my lord."

"Off to the mission now. You are dismissed."

But then Riddle started thinking. Was she really ready? Was she able to kill her own life? That required power and strength and a will of iron. He knew she had all of them and she had to use them wisely. He wouldn't have for companion a crying, weak woman.

He needed her lips to reassure him that all he was doing was right. He knew for a long time about the résistance but did nothing because he had no reason to. He needed a reassurance that he was doing the right thing but it would not come until later. Not that all the things were set in motion, all he had to do is wait and drink a glass of firewhisky.


	7. Preparations, Conspirations and Twins

**A.N. My dear sweetie pies (readers), I am not sure if I will be able to update often during the next two weeks of so because I have to learn for my driving license exam. I promise I will do my best to keep you entertained. **

_I've been having a lot of conversations with myself lately. Literally. _

_There are some dreams that I have been experimenting where I was having quite an animated conversation with someone who looked like my inexistent twin sister. We were talking about my darkest secrets._

_She claimed to know me and asked me to tell her my darkest secret and I refused for no reason. I just didn't trust her. I do not know why, but I did not trust myself in that dream. I did not trust what I could do. And she became more and more persistent by the moment. I felt like I was being pushed to give in. I have not give up… yet._

After Tom left, Narcissa went immediately to wake up Hermione from the induced sleep. Tom informed her of Hermione's "mental" problems and she figured that being unconscious was not necessarily the best way to avoid being trapped into her own mind. She actually liked the girl and liked to talk to her. She, compared to the other pureblooded women Narcissa had to socialize since she was a little kid and her mother made her go to brunches and teas, was actually having a brain. She could read under subtleties and understand jokes. She also seemed to see some part of Narcissa's soul.

_Flashback._

_Narcissa and Hermione were drinking tea as usually when, out of nowhere, Hermione started a new conversation. It was not an unusual thing, since most of the time their conversations were not carefully planned, but based on impulses._

"_I get it, you know." Hermione started._

"_What are you referring to?" Narcissa asked her slightly confused, even though she knew she will receive the answer in a matter of seconds. Hermione was not a slow thinker._

"_Your son and husband. I get why you are doing all those things. I understand your devotion." When Hermione saw that Narcissa had no intention of speaking or interrupting her, she continued. "I know how it's like to love somebody beyond levels of comprehension. I understand why you surpassed your role. You should have been the average pureblooded woman who did nothing but spend money, raise children and sometimes throw charity parties. You saw the danger and acted; you did not expect protection from money but faced your enemy."_

"_By enemy you're certainly referring to Tom?"_

"_Not necessarily. I'm referring to everything and everyone who could hurt your family and there are indeed, many."_

"_Where are you aiming at, dear?" Narcissa asked looking extremely calm._

"_I admire you. I always did – since the day you went to Snape and got out an Unbreakable Vow from him to protect Draco. I knew in that moment that if they messed with the entire family they messed with you, and you would do anything to protect the Malfoy line."_

"_Draco had a sister." Narcissa said in a breah. Hermione's face turned from calm into confused in one moment. "Her name was Ara. Named after a constellation as well. She was born when I was 18 years old. That's why I married Lucius in the first place. She died of a virus at the age of 10. She was, indeed, gorgeous. She got sick at the age of 8 and no mediwitch ever gave her more than a couple of months to live. Tom was the one to keep her alive for another two years. He studied and researched hours an end to find a cure because they seemed to get along together. He liked spending time with her to see her bits of magic manifesting at such a fragile age. That's where my loyalty for Tom started and it will not end soon. Then Draco was born and that gave me the fuel to make a deal with the devil." She finished her speech with a sip of tea. The two women looked really comfortable, like they were talking dresses over death._

"_I would say I am sorry but I know you do not need pity." Hermione said. "I admire your strength."_

"_Then learn from it." Mrs. Malfoy started again. _

"_I will". Hermione responded._

_End flashback._

Reaching Hermione's room, Narcissa got quite an odd feeling that something out of place was happening. She could not place it but it was there, deep inside her mind. The door was opened and the brunette was laying on the bed, her arms and legs looking slightly uncomfortable. Narcissa got her wand and started muttering awakening charms but they did not seem to work.

"Somnus finites!" Nothing.

"Finite incantatum!" No answer.

Nothing was working.

No matter how many charms Narcissa was throwing at her, Hermione reaction was the same: none. 

It was like magic had no effect on her, like she had been in a magical coma.

Wait… magical coma? Tom. She had to find Tom before it was too late. It was a real waste of time to try and figure it out all by herself.

Without so much of a glance back she disapparated.

Tom's meeting with this Death Eaters was over. He truly doubted if he made the right decision in trapping Hermione's friends but after all, he is the Dark Lord and he can change his mind as often as he wanted. That was a bright side of his existence: nobody ever believed that he is predictable and they never tried to defy his decisions.

The death eaters were slowly disapparating when a tall, blonde figure, who was not wearing a mask approached him. He could recognize her anytime, mostly from the fact that everybody seem to make her way to walk towards him. She was indeed a woman who had the power and one that could also master it. Something was wrong this time, though. He could tell because there were a few strands of hair from her hair that were touching loosely her shoulders. That hair that was usually combed up to perfection. Her robes were looking a bit crumpled and he knew that was a sign that she left in a hurry.

She approached his throne and whispered silently:

"Her… her condition is back." Tom stood a few seconds thinking and after that his hands started moving conjuring a soundproof bubble so that they could talk openly.

"Hermione's?"

"Yes. The one you told me about. The mental one."

"What happened?"

"I could not wake her after your charm. There was nothing that could even make her move a finger."

"Have you tried…- ?" Tom asked but was rudely interrupted by Narcissa.

"I have tried everything. Every single spell from any book in this world. I did all that I could think of. She is in a coma." Tom did nothing. He was thinking of the best course of action, Narcissa guessed, but this was taking way too long. "If you are not going to her in this very moment she will be dead. Her pulse is weak, her breath shallow. We need you or a healer but I doubt the healer could do anything."

"Let's go then."

A few death eaters were looking curiously at the place where the dark lord used to be a few seconds ago. They found it really odd to disapparate with Mrs. Malfoy.

She was exactly as he left her a few hours ago. Her dark brown curly hair passed her breast and was resting on her chest. Her eyes were painfully closed but he could see no muscle moving in her entire body. She looked rather tired and pale.

"Narcissa" Tom stated.

"Tell me, what do I need to do?" The blonde woman asked, her voice pleading.

"I need you to lock up this room. I need complete privacy and protection for at least a few hours from now on. Put the best wards you have on the room and I'll add up mine. No one will enter the room until I consent it."

"I understand."

Mrs Malfoy left the room and Tom started to feel the wards building. With a shift of his arm he started adding his own protection wards. After being finished, he checked them all again mentally. Without any further thoughts he conjured a mattress, placed Hermione on it and levitated all the objects from the room into an endless box.

When there was nothing left in the room beside the black box in a corner and the mattress Hermione was sleeping on. With a shift of his wand he enlarged the mattress and he got onto it, near Hermione.

Carefully, he took her hand into his, closed his eyes and started muttering "Legilimens" repeatedly.

"_Legilimens. Legilimens. Legilimens. Legilimens. Legilimens…."_

He must have said it about 40 times when his lids relaxed until he fell into a dense, uncomfortable fog.

"Mother?" Draco Malfoy approached his mother looking rather smug. That was the look he was carrying on his face every time but this time really annoyed Narcissa.

"Yes, Draco?" Narcissa asked on a fake welcoming tone.

"What's with the restriction in the mudblood's room?" Draco demanded an answer immediately. An answer that she was not qualified to give.

"I will not discuss this matter with you, son." Her tone was calm, her words chosen right.

"What's happening in there? I need to know. It's my house!" Draco was beginning to be more and more irritated by the moment.

"There Is nothing that should concern you. Please call your father to me."

"I will not until you answer me what is happening there. You owe me an explanation." Hearing his words, Narcissa's lips tilted up and her hand grabbed a bit of the fabric of her dress.

"I. do. Not. Owe. You. Anything." Her words were firm. Anyone who would have thought to press this matter further would have been an idiot. "You are going to bring your father here, for me. You will not enter the room and will not address me any further questions. If I catch you at least walking by that door you will suffer the consequences, and trust me, I mean it."

"What can you do to me? You cannot physically hurt me."

"Move you to Drumstang. Take my part of money out from your inheritance. Kill Astoria."

"You wouldn't…" Draco's face was flushed. He never received such a direct threat from his mother.

"I would and you know it. Go. Find Lucius. Bring him here. NOW!"

"Hermione?" Tom Riddle was standing in his Hogwarts Slytherin uniform in the middle of a grey fog. There was nothing that he could actually see around him except some silhouettes that looked like trees. He dismissed the thought of being moving creatures immediately and screamed into the fog again.

"Hermione?" Still no answer. It was like Hermione's mind was empty now, void of any presence. He knew the password but he didn't use it, it was not appropriate. The silence was almost unbearable and from the top of his lungs he screamed:

"HERMIONE!"

No answer. A second passed, even though it felt like an hour. And then another one and another one. After the fifth second there was a small murmur that seemed to come from around the trees.

"Hermione?"

"Yes." The voice answered. His face lighted up a bit into something that looked like a smile.

"Yes." The voice was doubled. But it was not from the tree, it came from somewhere further.

What was that?

Undecided, Riddle walked towards the tree and as soon he reached it he could distinguish a little girl that was curled around its roots. There was his curly girl, small and unprotected, trapped into her own mind. He went to her and lifted her up the ground but found that he couldn't. She simply was too heavy for him to carry and wondered if this was her mind's doing too.

"If you lift her you'll have to lift us both." Hermione's voice came from his back.

Startled, he turned around and found himself standing in from of Hermione again. Only there was a problem, Hermione was standing hear his feet too.

"Who are you?" He asked the girl that was standing.

"Hermione" she answered very sure on herself, her chin and nose lifted up with pride.

"And who are you then?" He asked the little girl on the ground that was currently trying to grab his robes.

"Her… Hermione" The girl coughed.

"What is… What is going on around here?" Riddle asked. He had a vague idea of having lived something similar to this but couldn't point it.

"Seems that you are in between us." Said the girl that was standing. " You know what you have to do." She continued.

"And what would that be?" Riddle asked.

"You have to let me kill her." Said the overly confident girl.

Suddenly, the Hermione that was standing on the ground lifted up with regained force and pointed her wand towards the first.

"Duel me." Her voice was still trembling a little but she had quite an amazing recovery.

"I will not." The other Hermione answered.

"When did you two grow apart?" Tom asked.

"It's your fault." One Hermione said, pointing her wand at him.

"Yes" The other confirmed joined the first one.

"You, Tom Riddle, parted us. With your infuriating desire to teach us dark arts. And look what's happening now."

Riddle smiled to himself and reached his wand too. He knew the girl is extremely powerful on her own, but two like her? Is that even possible?

"I have to make a decision, don't I? I have to know which one of you is the real Hermione so I'll kill the other."

"And why would you want that? Isn't this how you wanted me to be? Strong, fearless… soulless?" The bold Hermione asked.

"I've never wanted you." Tom Riddle answered with a straight face.

"Liar." A Hermione responded.

"Liar." The other one doubled.

"You two have two choices – " Riddle started. "Either one of you dies or you merge together."

"What do you mean by "merging?"

"I mean by a binding spell or un unbreakable vow. Each of you have to swear not to hurt the other one and live peacefully – _as peacefully as the voice of reason can live with the voice of heart –_ "Riddle added ironically. " and that is in the case of un unbreakable vow. A biding spell would be more difficult and not to mention painful. For both of you. You tasted Crucio, I am sure of it, but I have not tasted hell." He ended, apathetically.

"Spoken like a true Dark Lord." Begun the bold Hermione.

"Do it!" The shy one said quickly.

"Oh that Gryffindor bravery!" Riddle mocked. "You always want to be the first one that tries something, always doing something for the greater good."

"Fine!" The bold one approved. "Do it, but do it quick."

Riddle nodded.

The both girls were standing face to face, Riddle in between them.

"You need to hold hands." Tom started.

The shy Hermione was the first one to extend her hand, waiting for it to be met with another hand. The bold one was rather reluctant at first but eventually she grabbed her twin's hand.

When everything was right Tom started muttering the vow.

"Do you, Hermione Granger, swear not to hurt your other self for as long as you'll both live?"

"Yes." They both responded in the same time.

A light strand emerged from Riddle's wand and circled the hands.

"And do you swear to remain together as long as you'll live?"

"Yes." A second strand circled the hands, only this time slightly more powerful.

"And finally, do you swear to protect each other for whatever danger you might face?"

As soon as their answer was affirmative the third strand of light emerged powerfully from the wand, causing Tom to fall on his back. The fog was slowly loosing consistence, yet the girls were still standing, looking at straight in the other's eyes. As soon as the fog disappeared completely a wave of blinding light hit the three of them. Riddle was taken aback from it and hit the ground the second time, causing an irritated growl to erupt from his neck. Yet, when he managed to open his eyes he only saw a huge, imposing wall in the distance. So that's what was the fog hiding.

Someone was moving at his back and he felt it. In an instant he had his wand at Hermione's throat. There was only one now, the vow worked, he was certain of it.

When she acknowledged who he was she smiled and forced his hand to lower his wand.

"Welcome to my mind, Voldemort." The expression on his face was priceless. "Maybe I'll show it to you some day, but until then, OUT!".

They both opened their eyes at the same time, still holding hands. They were sitting on a mattress that looked as if it was burnt but they had no evidence of it. The walls, once white, were now grey, looking as if someone had just made a barbecue there. They were both covered in sweat, panting for air.

Hermione was the first one to speak.

"You've been through this too, didn't you?"

"Yes." Tom answered, his voice dull.

"How did you fix it.?"

"Binding spell. Much more painful and unnecessary."

"That was the only way I suppose." Hermione said, mostly to herself. "It must have been very hard to make an agreement between your human side and the one that was eaten up by dark magic."

"Yes, doing that was rather difficult. But if I wouldn't have done that I would have been dead for ages."

"Who did it?"

"I Imperio-ed Grindewald."

"He was an occulmens?" Hermione asked like she was at school again.

"A rather lousy one but he could enter one's mind and I let him. There was no other way."

Hermione's face contortioned expressing different emotions, like she couldn't decide for one. There was an awkward silence, a moment for both of them to catch their breath.

"He unified you under the name of Voldemort, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"Why did you do it?"

"I had to live."

"You had other choices."

"None of them were profitable. It was ridiculously easy to bind you to yourself."

"You'll never know how much I fought _her _until you came…"

And there was silence.

And the door was broken.

Several persons entered the room in a hurry, mostly death eaters. They tried to attack Hermione but she was quicker blocking their spells. Voldemort dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

"I have told you not to break the door you incapable sons of scumbags!" Narcissa's voice was rather easy to distinguish among a sea of men.

"It's alright Narcissa" Tom reassured her. "I will deal with them later. Hermione needs rest."

"I understand, my lord."

"I also need a few minutes with her."

"Of course."

Everybody left the room silently, almost cautious. They knew that they pissed off their lord and not everything will be alright after this outburst. He was too calm, too calculate to show that he was angry but every devoted death eater knew to read between his reactions when it came to revenge.

As soon as the last person left the room Hermione's skin started to burn, finally acknowledging that she was in the same room with him. Alone.

And her fingertips felt fuzzy, like there was raw magic into them, like she was doing wandless magic.

Tom approached her carefully, his lips swollen a bit and his hair kind of dirty. Something burnt it here, she was now certain of it. He had small ashes in his otherwise perfect hair but he looked deliciously seductive.

That was his plan, Hermione guessed. He wanted to seduce her.

And he took another step, slower this time, like he was walking onto foreign ground.

Not so much like her, she took a step too. There was some bravery inside of her that she didn't feel before. There was a certainty, an assurance of the power she had. She felt strong, she felt vibrant, and she needed Tom Riddle.

She wanted to feel him.

They continued walking towards each other until their faces met. Their lips were still apart and they were both breathing heavily.

She could feel his hot breath melting her skin.

He could the power she was emanating, that was making his skin crawl.

Their lips barely touched and they both jumped back, like they were electrocuted.

But they smiled.

Before doing anything more stupid than this Riddle turned his back at Hermione and left the room, the smile never leaving his lips.

The smile never left Hermione's lips until she fell asleep, too.

Narcissa received an unexpected guest. That was neither the most appropriate moment nor the best one to receive guests. But she knew that her visitor did not actually have good intentions and she needed to know what that lost mind cooked again.

"Bellatrix."

"Oh Cissy, my beloved sister. I never thought I'll meet you here." Bellatrix came rushing towards her sister, forcing a hug upon her. She was looking worse than ever, her hair looked like it didn't meet a brush in ages and her clothes were a mess.

"Well, you are in my house." Narcissa stated.

"You're stating the obvious, dear sister. Something's got you pissed off today."

"What did it make you believe that?" Narcissa kept her voice cool.

"Well you always used irony when you were a little child and you didn't receive what you wanted."

"That was a long time ago, Bella. Do not pretend to know me now."

"Oh don't play that game again, Cissy. You know why I came here."

"I could guess. But let's just stop making assumptions. Say it."

"I want you to…" Bellatrix's eyes looked crazy, her pupils dilated and her nose slightly larger like she was smelling something extremely foul "… poison the mudblood." As soon as she finished the sentence Bella started laughing ridiculously loud, causing the entire room to echo.

"Do you want to remain without all of your limbs?" Narcissa asked rather pleased that she managed to bring Bella's shame into discussion.

"The. Mudblood. Will. Pay."

Narcissa opened her mouth to speak but there but before she got a word out Bellatrix already flooed to the castle.

_This is rather interesting._

*  
Tom Riddle was lounging in his comfortable chair, waiting for the pile of death eaters that entered the room while he was with _his _Hermione ( or rather with two Hermiones ). He really needed some distractions from her lips today and a cute session of torture was always welcomed.

He started remembering the time when he wasn't so hooked up with this girl. He could not call her a woman yet even though he slept with her because, compared to him, she was much, much younger. But, after all, he still had a soul that needed to be fed.

Before Hermione everything looked so dull. Conquering the world was always a good idea, something that helped him wake up every morning and sleep every evening. Before Hermione he spent hours on end torturing people along with his trusted "mate", Bella.

Bellatrix was fun at times and she was rather entertaining to watch since she was surely out of her mind. She was a masochist and a sadist and loved torture more than anything in the world.

But calling Bella now for a little session was quite an unattractive idea. He was sure she was planning something against Hermione since he always knew she had a thing for him. From the moment he slept with Hermione, the girl became Bella's new forbidden toy. And he knew how Bella liked the forbidden.

It is rather odd not to find the same pleasure into torturing people but it still was quite satisfying. It would be much better if he touched Hermione again, but until the next time when something like this will happen a dark lord needed some distractions.

With a wave of his hand he apparated into the conference room where five death eaters were standing on their knees in front of him.

"It has come to my mind that you're not obeying my orders."

"I am sorry my lord." A man answered, his voice sounding like he was crying. No need to waste time with scumbags like that.

"Aveda Kedevra!" left Tom's lips and one was on the floor. Four ones to go.

"I did not ask you any question, like I did not give you any order to come and " he paused for a hard laugh "protect me."

Four hooded man were shivering with fear yet none of them dared to mutter one word.

"Why did you seek me?" Tom asked and pointed his wand towards the second one. "You. Answer."

"I am deeply sorry my lord." The man sounded like Mulciber even though his voice was obviously shivering. That brought a chill on Tom's spine. Yes, he missed that. "We were merely worried."

"Worried? Crucio!" Mulciber was on the floor, screaming and bending into some odd ways. He was tearing his clothes in the process, probably trying to find a way to get the pain out of his body. Tom guess that if he had been naked, his skin would have suffered the consequences.

"Are you under the impression that I, Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard since Slytherin himself, cannot handle a girl?" Mulciber, who was still on the floor, was panting for air, unable to respond.

"You!" Riddle pointed his wand at the third death eater. "What's your name?"

"Goyle, my lord!"

"Answer me."

"No, my lord, I am sorry." Tom figured that his mind could not process words bigger than 3 syllables so he quickly decided on his further actions.

"Crucio."

Goyle was on the floor, swirling and twitching.

"You are all to receive three sessions of 10 minutes Crucios from Bellatrix. Inform her when she arrives. Dismissed!"

With a smile on his face Riddle departed from the conference room and headed towards his dorms. But before he could reach the huge, wooden doors Dolohov grabbed him.

"My lord." Dolohov saluted respectfully.

"Yes, Antonin."

"Quite a show you've put up there. But I must inform you about something."

"Say." Riddle stated.

"Stop offering Bellas toys to play with because she will eventually want your own toy."

"You are talking about Hermione?"

"Who else, my lord."

"Oh, don't be stupid." Riddle said smiling."You know Bella cannot beat Hermione. She already made the mad woman spend two months on the hospital wing."

"I am not talking about a duel, my lord. We both know that even though Bella is crazy, she is not stupid. She will find a way."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"It has come to my mind that Bellatrix has already made the plan. All she has to do is act."


	8. Filthy lips on her mudblood skin

**A.N.: Sorry I've taken so long to update. The next chapter is already written, I only need to check it up a bit. Reviews make me write. If you like it, do it. It is nice to receive feedback.**

We cannot live one without the other.

It's simply impossible.

I, Hermione Granger, have never belonged to this world fully. I found out one day that I was a witch, that I could do things that some people have never dreamed of. I was introduced into this world in my first year at Hogwarts, and everything looked like a fairytale but it wasn't like that I all. There cannot be good without evil, there cannot be forgiveness without sins. People are somehow genetically programmed to hate, even if it is to make their life a little bit more adventurous.

In my first year I sat and analyzed everything I saw around me. My mind was recording every move of every person for a further analyze. I saw everything as a big, complex, story that your teacher at high school asks you to comment. So, I took a piece of paper, and during the years I noted everything. At the end of my sixth year there was a conclusion:

"There are some rules in the wizarding world: A Gryffindor will never get on well with a Slytherin. Muggle-borns will never come to peace with purebloods. The Potters will always be friends with the Weasleys. Tom Riddle will always hate mudbloods. The Parkinson family will always want to marry their daughter with a Malfoy. The Malfoys will always hate the Weasleys. The Slytherin families will always be involved with Dark Arts. The Dumbledores were always Gryffindors. Some kids that were always bullied in school will always end up like important figures – see Neville Longbottom or Severus Snape. "

Those are some canons that were never broken during the centuries. They were unwritten but even so, they were never broken by anyone. But everybody who lived in that world since they were born never took the time to look at the big picture, to admire the beauty of the endless spectacle that was running for decades.

The difference between us and them is that we are young. Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore, Sirius, Snape, Lupin – they are the from the old generation, they had their time to shine but none of them realized that that time is over.

Me, Harry, Ron and Ginny – we had an entire life ahead of us and powers we were not afraid to use. Those powers most of the time oscillated from person to person but we were never afraid to cast a spell or dodge a curse.

We were reckless, unorganized and fearless and that was what made us actually dangerous. Because Voldemort ( Voldemort, the man that I used to hate with all my guts and who I was ready to give anything up to see dead) would have never been beaten by a few children. He was never afraid of us; he just took his time to understand the way we were operating.

The fact was, we didn't have a plan and we didn't stand a chance. Dumbledore's interests were too idiotic and idealist in the same time to be suitable for a war. A war we were driven into without our consent but we wanted from all our hearts.

Because each one of us wanted to prove what he could do. Because I was thirsty for knowledge and had no interest in being just another ordinary human being. Because Harry, who had never known about the existence of this world until he was 11, wanted to feel integrated. He wanted to feel at home and was ready to give up everything for this magical world which got him out of his aunt Petunia's house. Because Ron was always believed to be weak and stupid and he wanted to prove wrong. Because Neville wanted to show the world what he was really made of. Because Ginny loved Harry. Because I liked Ron. And, most of all, because we were young.

Many hated me at school. I do not doubt it, I frustrated many, but I really did not care.

I got over kicks and words and insults, but I never did care.

And I learned to protect myself.

And now, I have a life, and my job is to protect it.

Because I am young, and Bellatrix Lestrange will definitely not poison me.

"I slipped the poison everywhere around the mudblood. I sprayed it with some kind of muggle device, so, every time the mudblood will touch anything that surrounds her, her skin will absorb the potion and she will die. It's very effective, Cissy. You should try it sometime" Bella's pupils were dilated, she looked, dare Narcissa say, aroused by what she did.

"Bella." Narcissa pursed her lips in sign that she was thinking about something.

"Yes, Cissy?" Bellatrix asked, her voice showing a small sign of curiosity.

"I do not believe that it was your brightest idea ever."

"But it's brilliant! She will suffer a painful death and nobody will ever suspect me."

"You've just told me." Narcissa answered with a straight face.

"Oh Cissy, don't be a fool. You wouldn't be able to betray your own sister for a mudblood."

"Wouldn't I?" Hearing her words, the mad woman immediately grabbed her wand and pointed it at Narcissa's neck.

"If you, by any chance, dare to say a word about this, prepare to say goodbye to your beloved son."

"Draco knows how to protect himself."

"But do you, Narcissa?"

"Cut the crap, Bellatrix." Narcissa's face wore an expression of deep anger. "You do not come into my house, threaten Draco and Hermione and get away with it. You are an old rusty woman who barely can see the difference between a shielding spell and wards. _Aveda Kedevra!_"

Narcissa's wand snap out of her robes, and a green light was heading for Bellatrix. But it did not hit her. A darker, blue light, formed around Bellatrix and protected her from the killing curse. Tom Riddle was there, his face impassive.

"Not yet. She is mine to take care of. Go to Hermione see If she is alive."

"Very well, my lord."

"My lord, my dear lord, my love for you surpasses any amount of dark magic that flows in your veins. And with every second I love you more and more and I cannot…"

"Imagine life without me?" Riddle asked with an amused look on his face. "I have heard this before."

"But my lord… you cannot … _care_" disgust filled her voice "..For that … mudblood!"

"What I care or I do not care about is none of your concern. Tell me Bella, did I ever allow you to poison my toys?"

"But my lord, she deserved it. She clouded your mind. She stole you … from me" Bellatrix's eyes started to water, announcing Riddle that she was, indeed, a psychopath and sociopath.

"Tell me, Bella. Do you value your life?"

"Anything for you, my lord." She was now standing on her knees, grabbing one of Tom's ankles.

"Russia then. You will be deported into Russia and handle my business around there until I allow you to come back."

"Oh please my lord, don't throw me away from you."

Riddle just smiled.

Hermione was lying on the bed, her eyes closed and her breath even.

In the moment Narcissa entered the room she sensed the presence and met her with a smile.

"Put your devious plans away, dear" Narcissa stated.

"What plans?" Hermione asked innocently.

"Well, it would be a wild guess to assume that you are now plotting how to kill my dearest sister."

"Oh bugger. I was merely contemplating a woman's existential dilemma. To kill a bitch or let her live." Irony could be literally breathed in the room. Both women smiled.

"Tom is taking care of her right now."

"I guess it would be useless to start a speech where I cleverly state that I do not need a man to take care of my back."

"Well, my dear, we already know that. But it seems that he wants to take care of you in other ways that any housewife would ever dream."

"You mean he doesn't want to bring me flowers, take me out and make sweet love to me on a couch? I am deeply disappointed." Hermione forced an innocent face that brought a smile on Narcissa's face instantly.

"Well, I could let you live with that impression but I think that it would be best for your mental state to know that he wants to fuck you against a wall." Hermione burst into laughter.

"Narcissa, such language my dear. Don't all purebloods have some sort of a teacher that forces manners onto them?"

"I skipped those classes. I was too busy making out with strangers into the Astronomy Tower."

"Were they all strangers?"

"Lucius was not, and look where it took him. I own half of his fortune and his child. And to think that it was just because he told me his name."

"What are you two plotting?" Riddle's voice echoed around the room. Both women turned their heads towards the door and found Tom, looking as charming as always, slightly leaning against the wall. His arms and legs crossed, he looked as if he was having a good time.

"Why do you keep asking if you surely heard at least half of the conversation?" Hermione asked him viciously.

"Well, I am glad that the poison did not affect your stubborn bitchy brain of yours. How did you manage to dodge it?" Tom asked curiously.

"I have my ways." Hermione responded, smiling knowingly.

"I am sure you have them." Riddle answered promptly. Turning his head towards Narcissa, he continued his speech "Narcissa, would you mind giving us a moment?"

"Of course. Now that we are sure she's not dying, you can have all the time in the world." Narcissa emphasized her last words carefully. She didn't want to be too obvious. Those kids – make that kid, since Voldemort is quite older than she is – should really consider their options.

As soon as Narcissa closed the door behind her Tom apparated on the bed, near Hermione.

"Oh such pride. You could not have walked two steps?"

"I wasn't sure you would let me in your bed."

"Since when do I have a choice?" Hermione asked genuinely.

"You don't. But I like to see you surprised?" His smirk was obvious. A little too obvious.

"Oh, like that would be easy. Surprise me."

"How many did you make out with on the Astronomy tower?"

"What?" Her expression was full of surprise. Where was he aiming?

"See? I surprised you. Answer now."

"Why are you suddenly so interested in my school affairs?" She hid a smile.

"Well, firstly, stop talking about it like it was centuries ago. You are now like what? Twenty?"

"Nineteen to be exact."

"How many did you make out with?" He stressed out the question quite obviously.

"A whole army." She genuinely smiled this time. There was no use to hide it, even if It would angry him.

"I will ask you for the last time then I will turn to more painful matters. How many did you make out with?"

"You will _Crucio _me?"

"Oh am I so predictable? I have other ways."

"Fine then. There were a few." Hermione finally surrendered.

"Start with the first one."

"Ernie McMillan. Third year. You killed him last year." Tom looked pleased.

"Go on."

"And there was Viktor Krum. He was a Bulgarian who came for the Triwizard Tournament. We shared one kiss. And there was Ron, who might as well be dead right now." She finished, with a shred of sadness in her voice.

"And there was no one else?" Tom was still trying to gain more information. God he was stressing.

"No. I was a virgin. You fucked me. End - of - story. What more do you want?"

"Nothing." Tom lifted up from the bed, meeting her eyes.

"So what was the purpose of this discussion?" Hermione said furiously. She was indeed infuriated. Did this make his ego grow? He already knew all that she said to him.

"You will receive the dark in one month. I want you in my bed that night." He stated, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What if I don't want to?"

"Why?" He asked, inquisitively. "Is there anyone else who touched you before? Are you afraid that I will stain your body? That my hands will leave traces of mud upon your thighs?"

"No, but…"

"Enough." He silenced her instantly. "You will come into my bed that evening and there is no further discussion. Unless you prefer rape. Good night."

Antonin Dolohov was organizing the Death Eater meeting that will take place next month. He was charged with this by Riddle himself so there was no way out. Even if he preferred to stay at home with this wife that was due, there was no way out of this.

The meeting was indeed a matter of great importance because there will be a lot submissions onto the Death Eater ranks. There was many who wanted to be a part of their society and tests were indeed necessary. There were a few that will definitely not survive until the end of the evening.

Yes, it will be tasty.

Rosier, who was helping him with all the paper work looked tired from organizing thousands of parchments so Dolohov started a conversation.

"I hear the mudblood will take part in the tests. Do you think she will make it?"

Rosier, a man in his forties, very well built, lifted his chin from the parchment and met Dolohov's gaze.

"Well that would be certainly interesting to watch. She is talented and without doubt, powerful."

"So your money's on her then?"

"My money's on whatever our Lord wants." Rosier stated simply.

"It's interesting to watch them around each other." Dolohov continued.

"Oh, I bet it is most delightful to see the only girl that the Dark Lord fucked and did not forget her name."

Dolohov nodded slightly and turned back to the paper work.

"My lord." Draco Malfoy entered a large room decorated in deep brown furniture and green carpets. The only thing noticeable at that room was that a Dark Lord was in it.

"Yes, Draco." Riddle answered him without interest.

"I am sorry to disturb you my lord but I have a question for you."

"Say it."

"I was wondering whether my aunt Bellatrix is coming back."

"Bella is currently in Russia now and will stay for a couple of months there."

"Very well my lord. Forgive my curiosity but isn't she of major importance among our ranks?"

"Draco, Bellatrix is as instable as a little child. I forced her to go in order not to kill her because, even though her craziness, she is still valuable asset."

"You did it for the mudblood, didn't you?" Draco asked insolently.

"You know that I do not discuss my reasons with death eaters, Draco. But since your place in my inner circle is already established I guess I could make an exception now. I am dot doing it for her. I am doing it for me."

"What do you mean, my lord?"

"If Bellatrix was here one of them would have been dead immediately. I prefer to save Bella's life. If the mudblood is as good as they say, we will see at the tests."

"Thank you, my lord." Draco turned on his heels and intentioned to leave when he was interrupted.

"Draco. I am saying this for this only time. I know Hermione can be tempting but until further orders no one has any right to touch her. That includes you."

"I understand my lord." Draco replied, looking mad.

_This man is positively crazy. I do not know what his affair with Mother are but they are certainly not clean. _

Hermione met Severus Snape for another hour or so of training. It was beginning to be quite a routine: He would always scream a couple of times and in the end she got the spell right and the world was a better place again. Even though Snape looked that kind of a person who didn't lose their temper, it was quite the opposite. The master manipulator seemed to have a soft point for her: he seemed that he could act careless around her.

"Once again, miss Granger. With feeling."

"That's a muggle saying" Hermione snapped right away.

"Well, I am not a half blood for nothing, my dear. You have to master the spell."

"Yes, if I don't, my ass will be fried."

"I suppose you found out what's in store for you a month for now."

Hermione, who could not stand the idea of her teacher thinking about her in inappropriate ways decided that I was better to leave out the detail where Tom told her he wanted to bed her.

"Well, I only know there will be a few tests…" Hermione stated as innocently as she could.

"And you do believe that a master manipulator will believe those lies of yours? There is something you are not telling me."

"Well, Snape, I do not believe you want to hear what will happen in a month or so."

"Since when did I grant you the permission to address me by my last name?"

"You never did but I feel better if I harass you a bit. Making things even."

"Tell me, what do you know?"

"Well, it is kind of personal and it has no connection to you and your training whatsoever."

Snape, who used to be an iron man, was betrayed. His cheeks flushed a bit and he turned around quickly so that Hermione will not notice.

On the other hand, Hermione kind of learned to manipulate, cheat and lie from this very man.

"It has to do with Voldemort, doesn't it?" Snape asked, trying to hide his embarrassment for diving into such a sensitive subject.

"Yes."

"Very well them. I, however, should warn you."

"Warn me about what? Does my ex teacher and current trainer harbors some feelings for me?" Hermione asked, smugness all over her face.

"As a matter of fact, yes." Snape answered darkly. He knew that implying things like this will drive her crazy. It was always a pleasure to see her infuriated.

Hermione, whose face now was voice of any of the amusement earlier, replied:

"What do you mean?" Her voice was unsteady.

"I am, above all things, concerned about your health. Mental and physical. And do not dare to ask me why because the answer is more than obvious: I am investing time and effort in your training and it will be a pity if you died."

"Yes, I know you can come up with three lies a second. I do not care about your reasons. I want to know what you want to warn me about."

Taking the chance, Snape started:

"There will be lots of duels that you will pass for sure. You are over prepared, your senses are sharp and your reflexes fast. You should have no problem killing and becoming a death eater. The other problem Is _your Tom."_ Snape muttered the last words with a suppressed hate.

"What does this have to do with me being a death eater?"

"You think he asked you to his private chambers that night for fun, girl?" Snape asked now looking positively angry. "You think you are the only girl he ever bedded? I believed that you are smarter than that. He sees a challenge in you. Every woman who ever got to be a death eater got through his bed. Bellatrix, Parkinson and many, many others."

"Do you mean that… " Hermione's mouth dropped. She was under the impression that Tom wanted her that night because he just wanted to be with her.

_Of course, stupid Hermione,_ she thought. _How could you ever think that the dark lord wanted something more from you than loyalty? It is all starting to make sense now. He wanting to sleep with me was just another test. He wanted to see if I was truly loyal. If I … submitted. Like the many others before me. Like Bellatrix. I am… the new Bellatrix. _

Riddle was enjoying a hot cup of black tea and reading some ancient dark magic book. It was unsafe to assume that there were still books themed on dark magic that he did not read, but honestly, he had absolutely no time now.

There was too much to handle, too many stupid asses to take care of.

And there was Hermione. The Hermione he tried to manipulate and did not fell in his graces. That was weird to say at least. Any other woman would have begged him to have her, to make her his. And he usually did not refuse such offer.

But there was something weird with Hermione.

Firstly, Draco found her and he was amazed of how she managed to escape and not blow her cover for so much time.

Then he took her as his servant, humiliated and tortured her.

After that, she started learning everything about him, he could remember moments (from the period she was his slave) when she looked at him with contempt and admiration. He found this odd to say at least.

And then they fought. And they fucked, and she did not scream.

She never screamed, and it was infuriating. Because he wanted to break her but she was growing stronger and stronger.

And he tried to manipulate her, leaving an "I love you" note on the bed. A note that she never mentioned. Because she was smart and she understood that there is no such thing as love. Love was just a lousy substitute for power.

But now, he wanted to fuck her and touch her, but mostly, he wanted to torture her and respond to her challenge. Because she was strong, maybe as strong as he was. And that was never a good thing.

There was one more month until the duels and she had no idea what was expecting her.

And he will make up his mind then. Yes, he will.

Lost in his thought, Tom Riddle did not see when his black owl arrived at the window, scratching viciously the glass. Disturbed by the noise, he decided to let the owl in. Once the bird was in, he saw that there was a small piece of parchment tied to her leg that he took and started reading.

On the paper there was a question, written in neat handwriting, that said:

_How much do you want me alive?_

_H._

So Hermione was thinking about him. Sure, the question was rather annoying and vague but he decided to dismiss that thought and write her back.

Grabbing a quill and some parchment he replied:

_It depends._

_LV_

Minutes later, the same owl entered his room again with a new piece of parchment.

_If I asked you nicely to kill me, would you?_

_H._

This woman was really asking absurd questions. Maybe some of Bella's poison actually worked.

Infuriated, he grabbed the quill again and wrote in capital letters:

_NO._

_LV._

He really did not know what got into her head. Deciding it was pure rubbish that she was thinking now he grabbed his cloak and left the room. There was important business he had to take care of, there was no time for chatting.

Too bad he did not see the owl coming back with another piece of parchment. This time the writing wasn't neat anymore and the word on the page were looking as if somebody wrote them with shaky hands.

_Then you don't "love me" as you stated. I do now know what you want me for, but I will find out and I will, without hesitation, rip your heart out._

_H._


	9. Her stiff upper lip

**A.N. I apologize for all the errors in this chapter but I literally had no time to correct it. If you like it, state your thought. **

After taking care of some of his death eater business – translated by yelling at them, a few Crucios and endless insults – Tom finally got in his room. He hasn't been there a lot lately. Actually, he really avoided staying in that room these days. The reason? Nothing simpler. There was no Hermione around there. There was no one for him to torture, to study or just to fill the silence. Her simple presence was making everything become calm.

Well, in fact, she was nothing but a firecracker but he loved that about her.

Wait, wait, wait! Did he just think the word "love"? There is something not right. How could he, Lord Voldemort, associate a mere mudblood with that word he tried to avoid all his life.

It is true what they say: you can never mourn something you've never had. Concerning love, he preferred keeping it this way.

She was indeed nothing more than a normal witch who made him feel interested.

Yes, "interest" was the word he was looking for.

Reaching for the bed he was a folded piece of parchment there. Recognizing the writing, he grabbed it and started reading it.

His pupils dilated, his fist clenched and his blood pressure increased a few points.

_Then you don't "love me" as you stated. I do now know what you want me for, but I will find out and I will, without hesitation, rip your heart out._

_H._

Exactly WHO DID SHE THINK SHE WAS? That insufferable mudblood. Threatening the dark lord was something extremely reckless. But _noooo, _she had to be better than everybody else. She had to cross the line. She had to cross that line.

Reacting now? No, that would be a very stupid thing to do. And Dark Lords were anything but stupid.

The revenge will be planned carefully, granting her endless pain. Yes, that thought already made him feel better.

Waking up the next day, Hermione knew there was something in store for her. He was too impulsive to let her get away with something like this.

Getting off her bed, she called the house elf to announce Narcissa that she wanted to meet her. Grabbing her stuff, she went into the bathroom and started taking a shower.

Later that morning, Narcissa and Hermione was having their usual chat on the parlor:

"So, is there a particular reason you wanted to see me?" Narcissa asked knowingly.

"You already know too much about me." Hermione smiled back.

"Please, do tell, how can I help you?"

"I want us to go shopping today."

"Oh dear, since when do you care of so frivolous things as clothes?" Narcissa asked, a big grim playing on her face. Hermione was indeed changing.

"Well since I will go to Dolohov's party. His wife will give birth soon and that child will need a name."

"I did not know that Tom invited you." Narcissa answered her a little taken aback.

"He didn't, but he will soon. I would prefer Malkin's shop."

Narcissa, decided not to press matters further. It was clear that the witch had a plan and she was not going to interfere. Malkin's shop was then!

Tom Riddle got off the bed with an infuriating mood. He was able to kill anyone who stood in his way and there was no turning back. And today he had to do such trivial things as searching for robes for Dolohov's party.

He needed to look good but trusted nobody to pick robes for him. Those idiots – except Lucius who was dressed up by Narcissa most of the time – had no idea about colors and how to mix them. There was one time when he trusted Rosier to pick some robes for him and he came back with something that could rival Dumbledore's outfits.

Getting up, he took a shower and left for Diagon Alley.

Hermione Granger and Narcissa Malfoy were taking a random walk across Diagon Alley. They were keeping a steady pace and once in a while Narcissa was slightly slowing down to greet some pureblooded housewives.

It was curious how everybody avoided looking her in the eyes or even speaking a word towards her. She was feared, Hermione acknowledged. The reason was pretty obvious: The Malfoys could as well own half of the wizarding world and such money brought respect.

Reaching the corner of the street, a group of young men could be seen chatting randomly. Among them was tall brunette with medium sized curly hair and a look of smugness on his face. He was the only one wearing pitch black robes, and Hermione found that strange.

"Narcissa" Hermione spoke after a long time of comfortable silence.

"What's the matter, dear?"

"Who is that man wearing glasses and black robes?" Hermione asked, trying to look sincere.

Of course she knew that was Theodore Nott. She always liked him somehow at Hogwarts. He, similar to Tom, emanated an air of power around him. His presence was above all, mysterious. She recalled from her days at Hogwarts that ne never really spoke to anybody but he was indeed respected. Nobody ever dared to cross him and preferred to avoid him. That included Draco Malfoy, who was believed to be the Slytherin sex god of Hogwarts.

Draco was known to be friends with Theodore but she realized that those were just words since Theodore never talked to anybody really.

As for the girls, Hermione could swear he bedded more girls that Draco himself. The girls seemed to gravitate around him, and that was because of his good looks. His hair was dark brown, carefully arranged that looked messy but sexy at the same time. His face was pale and soft, with high cheekbones and black eyes. The glasses only made him look more mysterious.

As for his mind, he was indeed very intelligent. Scoring top grades at everything. His mind was complex and his words always cryptic.

And Hermione knew he always had a soft point for her. She could tell from the looks she always felt on her back for all those years.

"Theodore Nott. I believed that he was in the same year as Draco" Narcissa replied.

"Oh." Was all that Hermione could say.

Reaching the corner, all the boys saluted Mrs. Malfoy and Theodore approached her.

"Narcissa." He said, with a dazzling smile on his lips.

"Theodore." She acknowledged him. "This is such a nice surprise."

"It is, indeed. And I see you have company," He threw a complete insincere smile towards Hermione.

"Oh yes, this is Hermione Granger. I believe that you already know each other."

"We've never been properly introduced." Hermione snapped, holding her head high.

"Yes, you are right. My name is Theodore Nott, as I am sure you already know. Glad to meet you, Miss Granger." He said taking her hands and touching it lightly with her lips.

As soon as they were close enough so nobody else would hear, Hermione whispered:

"Don't kiss my hand or you're lips will be covered in filthy mudblood germs." She said, lifting her head up shortly afterwards.

Theodore was taken aback from her comment but Hermione could read no sign of anger on his face. This was interesting.

"I believe that I already like you, Miss Granger." Theodore stated politely.

"Yes, Hermione is indeed charming." Narcissa added on her pureblooded educated tone.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, are you busy tomorrow night?" Theodore said with his voice loud enough for the other men to hear.

"It depends on the reason you are asking me, Mr. Nott." Hermione replied with fake politeness.

"Call me Theo, please. And the reason is that I need an escort for a ball. As you surely know, a colleague holds a party for his new born son and I seem to be most unfortunate in finding a worthy escort."

"Well, then, I cannot leave you going alone there, can I?" Hermione replied shortly after. "I believe I will do you the honor."

Narcissa, who was observing the conversation, was smirking to herself. That girl really knew how to play her cards.

"Well, then, I guess we will see each other tomorrow night. Have a good day, Miss Granger."

"I will." Hermione smiled and left him for Narcissa.

The women started walking towards Madame Malkin's shop when Narcissa started a discussion.

"Where did you learn it?" She asked, knowing Hermione will catch the hint.

"Snape." Hermione replied.

"He taught you how to enchant pureblooded men?" Narcissa burst into laughter. "I did not know he had these sorts of interests."

"Well." Hermione started, with a grim on her face "we weren't speaking about men, but he did teach me a lot about manipulation."

"I understand." Narcissa finished as they continued their way.

Theodore Nott found it rather odd to meet Granger on the Diagon alley, in a world where death eaters won and in company of Narcissa Malfoy.

He was aware of the fact that she was the smartest witch of her age but he really did not believe her capable of surviving in such times. He once heard a rumor that she was fucking Riddle but he didn't give it any importance since they were only babbles of Bellatrix Lestrange.

But when he saw her again, he knew something was off. The rumors were indeed true, but still, he could not take his eyes off her.

He did not know what was in his mind in asking him to the ball. He had a crush on her for a long time in Hogwarts but decided that acting upon it was against any of his interests.

She had changed a lot since Hogwarts ended, that was a fact. Her hair was softer, falling on her back on large shiny curls. Her eyes became more intense and her face no longer showed the emotions she always so proudly carried during Hogwarts. She was more sober and, dare he say, dark.

Maybe she was into the dark arts, who knew. There was so much knowledge there that it surely tempted her.

She was indeed a complex creature and he really, really wanted to take her.

It did not matter how. Against a wall, on the floor or oh his couch. Even a desk would be fine. There was so much about her that screamed "forbidden"… He wanted to posses her and soon.

It did not matter the cost.

That poor girl had no idea what she was getting into.

Or did she?

Riddle, who happened to be on the Diagon Alley that morning saw all the scene between Theodore and Hermione.

Nott was indeed one of his most gifted Death Eaters, because, despite of him being a two faced jerk, he actually possessed a brain between those years.

The scene in front of him infuriated him deeply, but getting past the first impulse of Crucio-ing them both until they had no air, he muttered a disillusionment charm and walked near those two in order to hear what they were talking.

He knew that Hermione was trying to get under his skin but he missed the fact that she was actually good at it. The display of cunningness impressed him deeply. He really didn't know that she had it in her. Of course, there were the incidents with Bellatrix but he only thought that it was only a reaction she developed during the war and her disgust towards Bella.

He sent Bella away in order to avoid any more confrontations. He had no plans in bedding Bella soon, since she was in Russia, but a big part in him really missed that relief that came with sex.

Yes, he needed sex, but he needed it with Hermione.

He understood that there wouldn't be a greater feeling than having her be submissive.

Deciding his course of actions, he left for the Malfoy Manor and apparated directly in Hermione's room. He came there already too often in order to act like a regular guest.

Hermione was there, reading her precious "Hogwarts, A History". She was looking positively delicious but there was no point in fantasizing about her now. He had things to find out.

Leaning on her door step, looking casually, he began:

"I didn't know that you have plans in being Mrs. Nott anytime soon."

Hermione jumped, looking startled. Just what the Hell was he doing there?

"Well, I do not. But since I believe that you already know I am going to Dolohov's ball, there is no point in believing that you want me to escort you. Not that the Great Lord Voldemort will ever have a mudblood for an escort."

"No, I just came to bring you back to earth. You know your position around here?" Riddle asked with a huge smirk on his face "You are nothing but a slave, dear Hermione. I believe you already forgot why you are staying at the Malfoy Manor so it's safe to assume you need a lesson."

"I believe that my status changed from the second I chose to ignore my note threatening you." Hermione commented, shoving her look into her book, looking positively bored.

"Crucio!" He threw at her lazily.

Her body convulsed on the bed, making "Hogwarts, A History" hit the ground soundly. But she didn't scream, she never screamed.

But his anger got the best from him and he continued the curse.

After a few good minutes Hermione fell unconscious on the bed, her face framed by wild curls and sweat.

Quicky, he muttered a waking up charm and her eyes opened.

"Why don't you kill me already?" Her voice was weak, almost pleading.

"Why would I?" Tom asked.

"Because then you wouldn't have to worry about me staining your Death Easters?"

"Crucio!" The room looked like it got on fire due to the intensity of his spell. For a few seconds there was only a deep, red light.

This one lasted longer than the previous one, but she still didn't scream. When the curse ceased she found the inner strength to get up from the bed and walk a few steady steps until she was near him.

When their noses almost touched, she looked directly in his eyes, setting up a challenge.

Her shaky hand found the soft hair at the back of his neck, grabbing it painfully. Of course, he showed no reaction.

Her other hand grabbed his wand and threw it on the bed. But still, there was no reaction from his part. Mainly because he knew that she absolutely held no power on him so, consequently, she was not a threat. But he did not expect the part when her lips touched his neck, sucking thoroughly. It hurt, but her lips were soothing enough for him not to care.

He did not know when, but his eyes shut, enjoying the sweet pain Hermione was administrating.

After a few seconds she was done, pointing to the bruise she had just done.

"If you want the world to know I am your own mark me, like I did just here. Until then, I'm going to the ball with Nott."

"You'll have the dark mark."

"Everyone has the dark mark, but you aren't sleeping with all the death eaters."

"That's beside the point. If I'd mark you everyone would think that I feel something for you."

"Then don't and I'll freely run from one bed towards another. Or who knows, maybe I'll just remain in Nott's bed."

His eyes gleamed red and her lips formed a smile.

She felt his hand on her stomach, slowly rising towards her left breast, leaving chills behind. Reaching her breast, he cupped it and ran a finger over her nipple. Even though through her robes, he still felt exquisite.

"Announce me when Nott can do this." Riddle concluded, and left the room.

Hermione was left alone, sitting on her bed again. Her mood for reading was of course damaged, maybe due to the two long Crucios and his stubbornness.

What he did earlier was of course a display of power but she didn't mind it. She never expected, thought, for him to accept his defeat and leave. And leave no permanent damage behind.

As for Nott, she only wanted him to piss off Tom a little but for Merlin's sake, she never believed that doing that will gain a visit from him.

And give him a hickey.

Slowly walking on the corridors of the Malfoy Manor, Hermione had nothing better to do than think. She somehow needed to feel alone and since Narcissa lifted the restriction of staying in her room, she was no free to wander around.

In her stay there, she hasn't really notice the dimensions of the Manor. That place was actually huge with all kind of portraits hanged on the wall of the Malfoy family.

This family had indeed history and Hermione realized that it would be a pity for such heritage to be lost. Now, she somehow understood what's Voldemort fighting for and secretly admired him for building an empire based on nothing.

But short afterwards she realized that her kind was what he was fighting against.

She fought in a war she was dragged into.

She saw friends and family getting killed and now she harbored secret feelings to making this man hers.

She needed to posses Voldemort in the same way he wanted to posses her kind. She needed to fight for this.

_This war never ended. It just started. This war will never end as long as I'm alive, _Hermione thought. Little did she know that what she was thinking was actually true.

The war continued, but it was between them now. Between the Mudblood Hermione Granger and the Halfblood Tom Riddle. A war for blood purity.

Can it get any more ironical than this?

*  
Narcissa wondered where Hermione would be but she guessed the girl needed some time off the drama surrounding her and she left that matter unattended.

Sipping from her tea, she was disturbed by the pop of a house elf.

"Mrs. Malfoy has visitors." Fuzzy, the house elf said quickly. It was such a pity that the house elves still feared the Malfoys but Narcissa was such frivolous in such matters that she didn't care anymore.

"Who is it?" Narcissa asked the house elf without interrupting her previous activity.

"Mr. Theodore Nott. He said he wanted to talk to you."

"Very good Fuzzy. Ask him to come in." Narcissa wasn't at all startled of this visit. Truth to be told, she has been expecting this from the moment she Theo with Hermione.

After a few brief seconds Theo appeared in the room, bowing his head respectfully.

"Narcissa." He greeter her with a smile on his lips. Such displays of affection were rare from his part and Narcissa guessed that it was he wanted something from her.

"Theo, dear. Please sit down." She motioned her hand towards the chair near her.

Theodore took the offer and sat near the blonde lady.

"What can I do for you?" Narcissa asked him politely.

"Well, I believe you already know the aim of my visit. I want information on the mudblood." The regained his composure, his face looking blank as usual.

"You mean Hermione?" The sneaky woman asked.

"Yes, Hermione." Theo motioned.

"Well, what do you want to know, dear?"

"It would be a wild guess to assume that nobody set their eyes on her. She is most delightful." The young man tried to hide he lustful look in his face but Narcissa still saw it.

"Your assumption is correct. What are your intentions with her?"

"I am walking on unsteady ground here. I hold an interest for her intellect, but, mostly, on her body." Theo replied, his words thoroughly controlled.

"Theo dear, who doesn't?" Narcissa threw a motherly look towards him. "But I am afraid you have strong competition" She added.

"You mean the Dark Lord?"

"Wise guess. Let me get this straight for you. Do you want to fuck her of have her?"

Theo was a bit taken about by her choice of words but he replied none the less.

"Both." He replied.

"Do you want her enough to risk upsetting the Dark Lord?"

Theo took a few seconds to think the mattered but answered promptly.

"I've wanted her since Hogwarts. Hell, I've even tried talking to her then but ended in nothing but some sneaky remarks and a big erection."

Narcissa laughed. She was used to this kind of conversations since Draco was having a rough time with women. He often came to her to confess his mistakes and craving. The word "pureblood" really only applied to their blood and their behavior in society. To put it bluntly, they really were fucked up.

"Take her to the ball and watch his reaction. You will find the best course of action from that moment."

"Very good now. Is she around? I wanted to speak to her about the dress up code. "

"I wouldn't worry about that, boy. She has excellent taste. Just say you want to see her."

"Fine. Where is she?"

Narcissa snapped her fingers and a house elf apparated.

"Fuzzy, take Mr. Nott to Hermione." Narcissa smiled and gave a short nod to Theo. _This is going to be interesting._

The house elf did what he was told and motioned Nott to follow his directions.

After walking for about 10 minutes around the Manor, Theo found Hermione on a balcony, admiring the view.

Taking a few long steps he reached her, but she was still unaware of his presence.

"Theo" She acknowledged.

"Good instincts, Granger." Theo smiled towards her.

"Please, call me Mudblood." Her irony stung a little and she was aware of that. She only wanted to taunt him a little.

"I will call you as I see fit." He replied, darkness in his voice. "I just came here to confirm our arrangements."

"Of course." Hermione replied.

"Tell me, Hermione." He started with a slight annoyance in his voice."Do you like it rough?" Theo added with a smirk on his face.

"You are a curious person Mr. Nott. You are trying to get me under the impression that you do not care about my muggle heritage but your try to treat me like a whore. I am worthy enough to be seen with you at a social event but you want to fuck me afterwards and you don't try to hide it. I may as well be an upper class prostitute. Let me make it clear for you, Theo. You liked me in Hogwarts, you admired my brain and you competed with me in ever subject possible. But now, all you want it to humiliate me. Please, try as much as you can, because I like it rough."

"You're a virgin then?" He asked her.

"Ask Riddle." He will surely be most glad to give you the details.

Theo was indeed starting to be more and more curious about this girl.

"How many times did you sleep with Riddle?" he asked her, anxious.

"Once."

"Did he force you into doing it?"

"I craved for it."

"Then why did you stop?"

"I didn't. He did. I couldn't deny him if he wanted some." Hermione replied truthfully.

"So you came to me to make him jealous." Theo concluded.

"Oh don't be a fool Theo." Since when were they on a first name basis? He still had to admit that his name really sounded erotic on her lips. "He cannot feel jealousy. Only anger."

Hermione started looking at the scenery ahead of them. The moon was slowly rising while the Malfoy Manor was being covered into blackness.

"You needed an ally."

"I needed a safe net. You certainly aren't one of those."

"It's safe to assume I will see you tomorrow night, at the ball. It's getting late. I should head back home."

"Good night Nott." Hermione whispered, never once looking at him.

"Night, Mia" Theo responded, with a smile on his face.


	10. About ballroom dancing

**A.N: Excuse me for my delay, but there have been some unexpected events in my life recently. However, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's written with all the love I could handle right now.**

Hermione, Hermione, Hermione.

Those three worlds only were sounding loudly in Theodore Nott's head like it was some kind of a mantra. Well, Hermione was a nice name, he agreed. Yes, a nice name for a mudblood.

It was the night of the big ball and all the death eaters were going mad. The wives were all crowding Diagon Alley throwing money away on expensive jewelry and clothes. Tonight is going to be an interesting night, he could feel it.

And his Hermione was going to be there, on his arm. Wait… _his Hermione? _She was not his, yet. Damn that Riddle for ruining everything for him.

He never trusted women too much in his life. He believed that it had something to do with his father murdering his mother in front of him. He loved his mother greatly but when he saw her on the floor, whimpering and begging his father to stop the torture, Theo understood that women are fragile. There were only a few exceptions from that rule - one of them was Bellatrix Lestrange. He instantly knew that he did not want a typical pureblooded woman near him, no, he needed someone strong. And Bella was not the one, she was much more of a man that Voldemort himself, it would seem. Bella was a sadistic sociopath that enjoyed torture more than a fat child loved cake.

Theo reasoned that he wouldn't fancy a round of Crucio in bed. The bed is for pleasure for Merlin's sake, not for some random woman to throw spells at him.

But then he heard the rumors of Hermione literally beating the shit out of Bellatrix and that impressed him.

There were other rumors long before Hermione was abducted by Voldemort that sometimes Bella's powers could almost measure to Riddle's. He heard from a death eater who heard from a death eater who heard from a death eater that Bella dueled with Voldemort a couple of times and she was more than a worthy opponent.

Well, since Hermione defeated Bella that means she is only one step further to dueling with Voldemort. Maybe even beating him? No, that was impossible.

Last night he went to the Malfoy Manor to see her, ask her some questions, and maybe find a soft point. She was very defiant to say at least, but he managed to get out of her that she was not a virgin. That thought saddened him a little bit; he actually wanted to be the first to touch the mudblood, but all for the best. Riddle already got the ahead of him on this one.

He wondered if they fought before and after. They certainly did before. He couldn't imagine the little minx giving in without a fair fight.

But anyway, there was an interesting development in the mublood's relation with Narcissa. He always liked that woman – all the Malfoy women had a bit of a twist to them - and he certainly wouldn't mind to take her for a ride. But Theo learned a long time ago that one woman is bad, two is worse. And Hermione seemed to grow quite fond of Narcissa – and needless to say, the older woman had some aces on her sleeve and knew how to use them.

Enough with the rambling now.

Theodore looked in the mirror fixing his bow tie. He looked impeccably, as always, and he knew that there were only 3 man that could represent an obstacle in his way in bedding all the women who wanted: Draco, Zabini and Riddle.

But Zabini had other interests, Narcissa wouldn't let Draco touch the mudblood so there was only Riddle left.

_Let the party begin! _

Hermione and Narcissa were both preparing with the help of Fuzzy for the ball.

"Take all the air out. Yes miss, this is the only way the dress will fit" Fuzzy was saying while pulling at some satin bands from Hermione's corset.

"It is not my fault that Narcissa convinced me into buying this ridiculously small dress" Hermione said, her face contortioned a bit by the lack of air in her lungs.

Narcissa, who was observing everything from a king sized white chair commented randomly.

"There are many sacrifices you need to make to look good, Hermione. Sometimes charm isn't enough. You need to feel attractive, to be attractive, even if the price is to breathe improperly for a night." The blonde's eyes were filled with knowledge. She had worn her fair share of corsets.

" Hope it all be worth it."

"It will, dear. But the question is… Who do you want to notice you? Tom or Theo?"

Hermione paused a moment from trying to put the dress on and looked like she was in deep thought.

"Both. And neither of them. It's a matter of luck. Who gets there first."

"You know you are playing with fire, dear." Narcissa stated.

"I'm beginning to be more and more aware of that." Hermione replied. "I like Theo. I might have a future with him. I can see that a change is possible. But…"

"Tom will never let you, you know that." Wide blue eyes scanned Hermione's face.

"I know."

"Well let's be prepared for the worst then…" Narcissa concluded and starting gathering some make up items from a tea table.

The ball room was gorgeous, of course. It was not as big as the one that Malfoy's owned but it was spacious and very well decorated. Narcissa left before her with Draco and Lucius. As much as she loved the woman, Hermione understood that she had her life and there is no way in hell the pureblooded elite will ever understand why the Malfoys would arrive at the same time with a mudblood.

A half an hour later Hermione was announced to the party by a man who looked like a penguin in his tuxedo. She guessed he was the Dolohov's butler. The man scanned her a bit and Hermione thought she saw disgust on his features.

"Miss Hermione Granger, escorted by..." But he didn't have a chance to reply since a hand came quickly around her waist, pulling her into the ballroom.

"By Mr. Theodore Nott." Theo ended.

Everybody stared at them for a few seconds giving Hermione the time to scan the room. She recognized most of them. They were of course, the elite. Always front (or six) page in the Prophet.

As soon as she greeted Narcissa who was already in the room with a short nod, her vision caught him. Tom. Who was looking as charming as ever in his all black tuxedo, beautifully complimented by his sheer skin and pitch black hair. He was there, smirking as ever. She just wanted to look at him, only for a few seconds more when she felt a pull at her arm.

"Stop staring at him." Nott remarked coldly.

Hermione was pulled from her reverie and finally understood what she was doing. She was gazing at him in a room full of pureblooded people. No, that was not good. Not good at all.

"Look unimpressed." Nott added. "Everything you say will be judged and all your actions will be deeply analyzed. You are currently in a big shiny cockroach nest. "

He pulled her straight into the dance floor, forcing her to dance. He started swaying on the floor with her when she felt the need to say something.

"Theo?" Hermione asked, still a bit amazed by her actions.

"Yes?" Nott was of course infuriated by her actions earlier. She needed to sweeten him up a bit.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

Theodore's face lit and he started grinning genuinely.

"Already Granger? I knew you wanted to sleep with me but we should wait at least until it's midnight. They will all be too drunk by then to notice us leaving."

"You and your perverted remarks, Nott. No, I do not want to fuck you. I merely want to thank you."

"For what?" Of course he knew what she wanted to thank him for, but it would be so much sweeter if he heard it from her lips.

"You'll see." Hermione smiled playfully.

"Fine then. Let's go in the balcony. Nobody will go there anyway since Dolohov himself said it brings bad luck."

"Why would you go with me in a place that brings bad luck?" Hermione asked. "That would mean that you will never get to fuck me as you wanted."

"There is no such thing as back luck, Mia." With that he grabbed her hand and started leading her somewhere else, somewhere far from him.

Tom Riddle was furious. Of course he was furious. The mudblood had the courage to come to a party without him. And accompanied by Nott, moreover. This was unacceptable. Seriously.

But he couldn't give Not a few rows of well-earned "Crucio" because everybody will begin to suspect that he was feeling something for the mudblood. And he was NOT! Seriously!

"Are you enjoying the party, my lord?" A young redhead asked him. She really would have looked delightful to any other man in her deep red dress, her hair combed up and tons of make up on her face. But not to him.

"Of course I am." He answered her question uninterested.

"Well you look kind of thoughtful. May I offer my services to make your night even more delightful?" The read head asked hoping to get a positive reply. Those young women were all kind of stupid, Voldemort thought. Yes, they were. They all fell for his looks and his charm but none of them actually thought of the fact that he could actually hurt them. And kill them.

"You could not handle a man like me." Tom answered smirking. This girl was really stupid. Oh how he enjoyed making fun of her.

"But I do not want to handle you, my lord. I was merely offering myself as a distraction." The read head fluttered her eyelashes at him.

That caught Tom's attention.

" You remind me of Ginevra Weasley. The only thing could offer me a distraction right now is to kill you so it seems that you have a choice to make. Die like Ginevra or get the hell out of my way."

That caught her off guard. Apologizing, the read head left his sight in a few seconds.

_Women! _He thought.

"What did you wanted to thank me about?" Theo was positively smiling towards Hermione.

"For not letting me making a fool of myself in front of all those purebloods." Hermione answered truthfully.

"Well I know a way you could thank me" Theo smiled, approaching her.

They were standing in the "unlucky" balcony, staring at each other. She didn't look down. She already knew what was down there. There were some muggles that were going to be the entertainment of the night for Voldemort's inner circle.

Theodore was getting closer and closer when a breeze of cold air hit her bare back. That made her walk a little forward, searching for a source of warmth.

They were standing face to face now, their noses merely touching. But he didn't touch her whatsoever; he just slowly moved his head forward so his mouth could be near her ear.

For a few seconds he said nothing, she could only feel his warm breath on her skin.

"I want you to fuck you against this wall. This is how you should repay me."

Of course it sent chills along her spine. She was a woman after all. And he was close and warm and smelled like mint. But he did not smell like Tom. But there was temptation, that mere temptation of having some moments when she could feel someone else near her. Comforting her.

"I would only do this for comfort and you don't look the cuddling type." Hermione addressed him.

Theo laughed for a second but it was angry. An angry laughter.

"So you want cuddling and the certainty that I will always love you?" he asked, his voice was full of venom.

"You will never love me" Mia replied quickly.

"Maybe I will." Theodore replied. That really caught her off guard. She would have expected any answer but that. How could Theodore Nott actually love her? No, that would be impossible.

"But we are getting away from our subject. Would you or would you not want to feel me against you?"

Hermione shivered a bit, Mr. Nott certainly had his way with words. But there were other things pressing on her mind at the moment. A certain dark lord.

"You know he will be here any moment." Hermione stated.

"I know." They both knew they were talking about Tom because was too curious to leave matters alone. He will arrive there and he will be vengeful.

"You are willing to risk your life for a quick fuck?" Hermione asked Nott, seeking for an answer.

"Point taken. I'll go. Stay here. Deal with him." Theodore ordered her.

She should have known. In fact, deep inside her, she knew that Tom was her ordeal. Theodore wanted nothing to do with the wrath of the dark lord for a mere mudblood. She brought this on herself.

He turned on his heels ready to leave when Hermione added.

"I'm scared."

"Don't be. Pretend it's me." He gave her a quick glance and then left.

Tom Riddle was walking carelessly around the Dolohov Manor. He will find them. Yes, and he will get his revenge. Nobody played tricks on him and got away unharmed.

And then he saw the balcony. And she was standing there, her back exposed, her frame slightly illuminated by the moonlight. She was probably looking at those muggles Lucius wanted to have for entertainment. Probably mourning over them.

She was alone but he had no doubt that Nott had been there too. He could still smell his cologne. But she was alone and she knew he was coming. He sensed her fear.

Delicious.

She was waiting for him. That, he knew. But he decided against saying something, he merely walked forward until he was so close that the wild strays of her combed hair touched his nose.

"Waiting for someone?"

She jumped. She was even more scared than she was before. But she held her ground and turned around to face him. She had a backbone, he'd give her that.

"You, actually." Hermione's face was serious. Not scared, not thoughtful but serious. The face she only had when she read a book.

"You knew that I'd come."

"Of course I did."

"But you don't know what I'm going to do now."

"Does anyone ever know that?" She asked him, a small smile playing on her lips. She missed him.

"It's not my fault I'm unpredictable." He answered wisely. He would play her game even though he knew she only wanted time.

"You have some nerve, flaunting Nott into my face like that."

"You don't care."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you are the dark lord. Dark Lords don't have feelings." She got him. Or at least she thought he did.

Smiling wickedly, he bent so that he could capture her lips into his.

"But dark lords have urges. And right now I only want to claim what's mine." He said, between expertly placed kisses on her cheeks and neck.

"You took me once. You took something from me that was not yours to take." Hermione added, shivering lightly.

"Your virginity, you mean? Oh, but you gave it to me, don't you remember?" Tom responded while placing more and more passionate kisses on her body parts.

_Flasback._

_"Open your eyes" He said, with a different voice that I ever heard him use. It was almost gentle, almost loving._

_I did like he said, slowly letting light go through my eyelids. I looked at him; he was looking at me pleadingly, almost waiting for an answer. I stared at him in confusion, it was nothing like I expected. I closed my eyelids and opened them again, hoping he would take the hint and he did. _

_End flashback._

"You let me." He added. "You wanted me."

Those soft lips against her skin reminded her of something that she wanted to forget. That night, his genuine smile, the sheets, the bed, his soft hair and the note. That note with three words that made her want him.

"The note." Hermione said, her voice suddenly stronger than before. "What was with that note?"

He looked slightly taken aback by her recollection but answered her nonetheless.

"You'll find out one day, pet." And there were kisses again. Soft kisses against her skin, placed by him. They were his because the skin burned where his lips have been. Hermione was too busy savoring every moment of their encounter when he started talking again:

"So what will it be for tonight? I'll allow you to choose it." He smirked.

"What are my options?" Hermione asked him, suddenly aware of what was expecting her.

"Crucio, torturing a muggle or killing Nott." He offered her.

"Don't kill Theo." She quickly snapped towards reality. Her voice quivering, she repeated "Please, don't kill Theo."

But that didn't have the desired effect on Tom. An indescribable wave of anger came over him as she begged for Nott's life. That damned mudblood.

And then his eyes flicked red. Yes, he was indeed angry. Recognizing that, Hermione backed away a bit, trying to get to a safer place. But nowhere was safe around him now.

"So you are on the first name basis now," Tom started talking, his voice filled with a venom that could not even compare with the way Theodore's was earlier. He was vicious, evil. The definition of evil.

She couldn't get as far away as she wanted, because with each step she approached the edge of the balcony and there was a long way till down. Hermione was scared alright. Because this was not one of those bickering fights they had until now. No, this was something that will not be solved by a few minutes of Crucio. Tom was positively angry and all that anger was directed towards her.

Taking a step back, her leg hit something hard. She reached the edge and understood that there was nowhere else to go. She was trapped there, with him.

Muttering a wandless silencing and locking spell, the door of the balcony closed with a loud noise. His almost red eyes never once moved away from her face. Looking her straight in the eyes, he advanced.

She tried retreating a little bit more but it was a lost fight.

"Would you choose death over me?" Voldemort asked seriously.

"No." Her trembling voice pleasured him immensely.

She was on the verge of crying and she never cried. Not around him, though.

"Then why do you keep going backwards?"

"Because I'm scared of what you could do." That made him smile. But his smile was so wicked that gave her goose bumps.

"You mean something like this?" Roughly, he pulled her away from the edge and shoved her into the nearest wall. Hot white pain shot though her nerves when her back hit the wall.

"Or something like this?" Not being satisfied the first time, when he only heard a whimper, he grabbed her again and threw her against the wall.

It hurt. Her bones hurt, the wall was cold and she could feel blood emerging from her scratches. Her blood seemed cold too. So she screamed.

And that finally pleasured him.

Angrily, he threw himself against her again making her hit the wall once again.

Looking her in the eyes, he quickly made a decision.

"If you thought I took something from you then why don't I actually take it?" He spat at her, while ripping her gown forcefully until it reached her waist.

Hermione knew what was next. He was going to do it to her, the only thing she never wanted him to. As if reading her mind, he started talking:

"The best way to break a person is starting with the body. Without a strong body the spirit will fade."

"Don't." Was the only thing she managed to say, while trying to hold back tears.

"Don't what?" He asked her playfully.

"Don't do it, please." She begged him, her eyes full of tears. But no tear escaped… yet.

"Funny, the last time you asked me something so nicely you were referring to Nott." His own words angered him more making him rip her panties and undo his belt buckle, freeing himself from his boxers.

Throwing no more but a spiteful glance at her he grabbed her by her arse and shoved himself into her with a painful thrust.

And then she screamed an ear shattering scream. Because it was the second time, and it was him, and because it was so cold outside. And it hurt so much more than the first time, and his hands painfully digging in her backside did nothing to comfort her. There were no satin sheets this time; it was only him, she, and a wall.

But he was warm; at least he was warm. So he did the only thing she could do. She pulled him in an iron grip with both her legs and arms, taking him nearer. Even though that meant making him go deeper she held him close. Closer than she ever reminded him being.

Looking at the shivering girl that was holding him like her life depended on him (which actually did), he braced her with his own arms too. Her actions were confusing, he thought. He was there, hurting her. He was the one who was hurting her and despite that she reached him for he was inside her, and even though he felt her muscles didn't want him in, he couldn't help but feel good. So he started moving, back and forth, going deeper every time.

She was not saying anything; she was not even crying or whimpering as he expected her to. Her grip never loosened, she kept him close enough so that he could keep moving.

This was not how it was supposed to be, it was merely revenge. He wanted to look into her eyes but discovered that he could not because of her grip, so he rested his head on her shoulder and continued to move back and forth.

Carefully, he placed the smallest of kissed on her neck until he felt his orgasm building. With a few more thrusts he finished.

Only then he realized that she didn't let him go. Still inside her, he undid her hands that were laced at his back and forced her to face him.

"You should have told me you were cold."

"You wouldn't have cared." Hermione answered, her voice sounding so quiet that he had to bow to hear her. There were wet traces on her cheeks, going down her neck, finally reaching her breasts.

"You can't know. You are crying. I've never seen you cry before."

"I've never had a real reason." Hermione answered, truthfully. "You did it. You stripped me of the last thing I had."

"Isn't that the definition of rape?" Tom answered, but his face didn't show any signs of pleasure.

Placing her on the ground, he quickly Scourgified himself and straightened his robes.

He wasted only one second looking at her trembling form and added before he left:

"That's the only way you wouldn't have pretended I'm him".


	11. This goes as planned

**A.N: If you enjoyed this please review.**

Hermione was left there, on the ground, shivering.

There were many sensations she was experimenting that moment but there was a particular one that couldn't bring her peace. And that's betrayal

She felt ashamed for wanting to be with Nott. She felt angry at herself, but overall she felt that Nott should have been by her side. She felt he should have protected her from Tom.

Tom actually taught her some valuable lessons that night. One of them was that she was alone._ Get a grip, Hermione. You are alone in here; you have only yourself to depend on. Theodore will never risk anything for you. You were so unbelievable stupid to believe that he would ever protect you. Harry and Ron are long gone, little girl. There is no more loyalty and love in this world waiting for you. No more friendships to die for. It's only you. So lift yourself up the floor and walk in there with your head held high. _

And she kept telling herself that, until she got tired.

But the tears kept falling down her cheeks and there was no way she could stop them.

And her knees were weakened so she couldn't even stand.

Her eyes blinked a couple of times but then they stopped blinking.

_Nobody will ever care about you, Hermione._

And then she was blissfully unconscious, that she didn't feel the two soft arms lifting her up the floor.

_Get a grip, Hermione._

_Get a grip, Hermione. _

_Get a gr…_

Tom Marvolo Riddle enjoyed his evening on some point but there was something at the back of his mind disturbing him greatly.

Maybe it was the fact that the redhead before him was so stupid that she actually said she wouldn't mind dying if she got to spend a night with him. Maybe it was the fact that Narcissa Malfoy was suspiciously missing.

Lucius came 20 minutes later informing him that Narcissa had a headache and she left home, but sent her deepest apologies with him. He knew Mrs. Malfoy too good to believe that the real reason of her departure is merely a headache. No, that had something to do with Hermione.

Hermione, who, by his calculations, should now be somewhere crying into Nott's arms. He was sure that little bitch will take advantage of him raping her and go running towards Nott and beg for some comfort.

All his doubts were vanished the moment he saw Nott with a blonde woman by the bar, carelessly smoking a cigarette and sipping champagne from a glass. It Nott was there that means that Hermione was not with him.

Damn!

He got it all wrong this time.

He placed his bet on Nott coming over and taking her from that bloody freezing balcony, since she was not able to walk herself. She had no wand so she could now warm herself and her wounds were not healed.

But that was not right. As far as he could see, Nott was far from caring about his Hermione. He was just enjoying a discussion with the woman Tom was certain he was going to sleep with tonight.

Excusing himself, he started running towards the balcony, only to find it empty.

Someone took her.

But who? As far as he could know there could have been some random Death Eater who would rape her again and again and torture her to insanity. No, he had to find her.

Desperation finally started to show itself so he went to the only place he considered safe for her. Looking around once for any leads, he apparated to the Malfoy Manor.

There, he was greeted by the house elf.

"Miss Malfoy is busy at the moment, Sir. She said she is not to be interrupted. I am sorry, sir, but she looked like it was serious." Fuzzy said.

"I DO NOT CARE IF SHE IS TALKING TO MERLIN HIMSELF, BRING HER HERE."

"There's no need to scream at the house elf, Tom. I am here. What do you want?"

He recognized that tone. Yes, he knew it very well. That was the tone that Narcissa had when she was angry. He only heard that tone a couple of times in his life and every time an "unfortunate" accident happened to one of his followers who hurt Draco or Lucius in missions.

"I want to see Hermione." Tom stated darkly.

"She's not in the state to be seen right now." Narcissa replied straight-faced.

"How bad is it?" He asked genuinely.

"You should know. You caused it." Oh yes, Narcissa was really furious. "I thought you have more brains than to rape her for Nott. Because after all, she is not to be blamed into this whole situation, Theodore is. Because he was a coward and he left her to face you. So she faced your wrath alone, Tom."

Tom's features revealed nothing but a blank face. On some extent, Narcissa was right.

"I kindly request your departure, my lord" Narcissa added. "You've done her enough damage for today."

With that, Narcissa left leaving nothing than a scent of expensive perfume behind her.

*  
The next day, Tom was furious. There was a globe of wrath around him and literally everybody avoided him. He was not mad at Nott, he was only playing some Slytherin schemes. Those were as old as Salazar was. He was not mad at Hermione either, since she was probably lying in a bed somewhere refusing to wake up. No, he was mad at himself. And confused.

So he did the only thing he only did.

Making a floo call to the Dolohov Manor, he requested Antonin's presence immediately.

Antonin never disappointed him when it came to an objective view of all things.

"You called for me, my lord?"

"Yes Antonin. Be seated."

As soon as the old man gracefully sat on the chair in Tom's office, he understood what that was about.

"You were kind of distracted at the party last night, my lord. I haven't seen you half of the time."

"There were some things that needed to be solved." Tom replied thoughtfully.

Antonin knew he didn't have to question his lord further. Everything was going to be told to him in a matter of 5… 4…. 3… 2… 1 seconds:

"I raped her."

Trying to keep a straight face, Antonin decided that the better way to approach the problem is to look unimpressed.

"This is not uncommon" Dolohov said. "Things like that happen every day in our society."

"She did not deserve it." Voldemort stated. "She never screams nor she cries. Not even under Crucios, not even if I kill her friends. She usually keeps a straight face."

There were a few moments of silence but Dolohov knew better than to interrupt his thinking.

"Last night she cried and screamed like her life depended on it." More silence. This was going to be a tough conversation.

"My opinion is that she never expected it, my lord." Dolohov finally added.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose for a few seconds and then allowed Dolohov to continue.

"For all I know, you only had an encounter of that type with her and it wasn't unpleasant for her or for you. She never expected you to be different than you were that time. That was her first time, I presume."

"Yes," Tom quickly added. "I was the only one that ever touched her."

"How did it feel, my lord?" Antonin asked.

"How did what feel?"

"Being inside her again."

There were a few moments of silence in which Tom's forehead wrinkled a bit, in a sign of deep thought.

"Home. It felt like home."

Antonin lips curled into a small smile. He knew the feeling. He knew it too well.

Theodore woke up with a blonde head curled against him and it was an unpleasant feeling. The girl had absolutely no idea how she got there so he guessed they were both too drunk to remember the night before. He quickly dismissed her and proceeded towards the shower when last night hit him. He left her there to face Voldemort and he was certain that did not end up well.

"_Pretend it's me" _was the last thing he said to her. That was not the smartest thing to say, he realized later, when he saw Tom departing from the balcony later that night. He saw everything, the whole scene, from the outside. He knew she will be in big trouble but he never believed that Voldemort would actually rape her.

He saw her there, crying and begging him to stop. That was not pleasant to his eyes even though he has seen quite some vile things in his life. The only thing he did not understand is why he braced him when he was raping her. There were not many things Theodore Nott did not understand and this was one of them. It was like she was forgiving him. She was already forgiving him for what he was doing.

It was not an act of love what he witnessed, but it had something in it. Those two shared a connection deeper than everyone else thought beforehand.

Truthfully, nobody believed that Tom Riddle will ever going to be able to have feelings for somebody. But he wanted Hermione, and that was final. Even after he saw Riddle pounding into her, he still wanted her and her body.

After he left he heard Hermione whimper and cry for some time. After a while, the cries have stopped so he guessed she fainted.

But even after that, he couldn't bring himself to actually care about the girl. He wanted her; he needed her but was not able to care after a mudblood. So instead of helping her he was a coward and told Narcissa what happened. "A woman will know better how to handle this situation" he said to himself.

What he didn't take into account that before Hermione's arrival he had his share of firewhisky and there was the alcohol talking, not him.

But this morning, everything was clear again.

Riddle raped Hermione under his eyes and he did nothing to stop it.

So he was a coward.

And he deserved his fate.

Hermione blinked once, and once again. Light pierced between her eyelashes. But she was sore, everything was so sore but she suddenly remembered why. A wave a deep sadness washed over her when she remembered what she had been through last night. She remembered soft hands caressing her forehead afterwards and sweet words told into her ear.

Sometimes she thought she could live only with him and for him. Sometimes she thought that the whole world was becoming a blur when he was around, everything started to lose focus and become an enormous amount of live material. The friends didn't count, the place, not even the circumstances, he was all that mattered. But soon came the day that she realized that a person is made to connect. Even if it's with the boy at the coffee shop or the lady at the supermarket. Once in a while it's nice to have someone asking if you're ok, if it's going to be ok. When she found herself without her old life back everything was a blur again. Of course, he was there, but somehow he wasn't enough, she needed the false security that the old life provided her. When you are lost, and your friends are far away, where do you go?

Narcissa was the best thing that actually happened to her for a while, she thought. She took care of her like she was her own daughter, washed her, healed her wounds and put her to sleep.

Hermione blinked again, recognizing the room she was in. It was her room at the manor. Getting up from the bet she noticed a black silhouette lounging on the chair opposed to her bed.

She waited to be scared, but she wasn't.

She had expected to feel sorry but she wasn't.

She thought she would scream but she didn't.

She was only sad.

She took a few minutes contemplating him, but nothing had changed about his appearance. He was the same Tom she knew.

And then was a long uncomfortable silence, until she decided to break it.

"Do your worst." Hermione finally said.

"I have not come here to do something to you."

"You always do something to me."

"It's not always intentional."

And then there was silence again. But this time he broke it with his deep velvety voice.

"What are your feelings towards me?"

Hermione blinked and waited for a few seconds before answering.

"I deeply and profoundly hate every fiber of you."

"I understand." Tom replied, his face void of anything. "Did it hurt?" He continued.

"As much as you can imagine." Hermione replied. "I don't understand the aim of this conversation."

"There isn't one" Riddle replied. "Are you still sore?"

"A little." The girl replied numbly.

"Where did It hurt?"

"Everywhere."

"Let me lay near you. Move over." His request was of course totally unusual, but what was usual about him. He was a dark lord.

Taking her time to process his request, she finally decided on an answer. Moving over, she made him space to come into the bed. He did as he was invited and after a few short minutes he turned over and spread his arms around her.

And there, in bed with Hermione, everything was all right. She was reluctant at first but after a while she leaned in his embrace. There were no words said but there was no need to.

Tired, they both fell into a deep slumber.

Draco Malfoy was tired of all that "mudblood" discussion around him. Yes, everyone knew that Voldemort had a thing for Granger but who didn't? Seriously, the girl was something.

So when the dark lord came into his room in the morning asking him to lead him through Narcissa's wards into the mudblood's room he had nothing against it. He knew that it would not be difficult for him to actually break the ward but he guessed he didn't want to alert his mother.

So he helped him pass through them, hoping that those two will finally kiss and make up. He was tired of that much bullshit.

Pacing around the room, early in the morning, he heard a scratch at his window.

Great. An owl this early.

The letter was not long:

_Draco,_

_We took over the order's last remaining base in Moscow. That was a complete success. We need more orders from the dark lord. Please inform him as soon as possible that his presence will be required in Russia in two weeks time._

_Yaxley._

Great! He will not be the one to interrupt the cuddling session between Riddle and Granger. No, they would both probably hex him into the next Sunday. This will have to wait.

He understood from his father that there was much rumor last night that Nott started competing with the dark lord for the mudblood.

Who would have thought? His old friend, Theodore Nott, having such nerve in him?

It was time for a visit.

Reaching the Nott Manor, Draco immediately required Theodore's presence. In 10 minutes time a sleepy Theodore emerged from the stairs looking curious at him.

"As far as I am concerned I believe that your visit is not related to trivial things."

"Oh, Theo, you know me too well." Draco replied, smiling at Theodore. In times like these, he felt like they were in Hogwarts again.

"So you have a thing for the mudblood."

"Always straight to the point, Draco. Why, do you want to have her too?" Draco laughed for a second and after that he suddenly stopped.

"No. I just want peace into my house."

"So he came at your place, then. As expected." Theodore smiled to himself. He knew Voldemort won't be able to stay far away from her after a night like that. He was so predictable sometimes.

"What did you expect? He raped her." After a few seconds of silence Draco added: "It's unbreakable, Theo."

"What do you mean?" An intuitive Theo asked.

"They burn when they are around each other. You will not make a handsome love triangle along with them"

"I want her just for me." Theodore finally said it.

"Well, I guess you might just have the perfect occasion." Draco was planning something, Theo could smell it.

"Go on, then."

"He will have to leave a couple of months for Russia. They conquered a base there and they need new strategies. She will remain home. There's your chance."

"Why are you telling me this?" Theodore asked like any Slytherin would have.

"Let's just say I miss the Manor without all the drama in it."

"Very well then, old friend."

Narcissa woke up that morning and was confused to find out that Draco wasn't home. As she knew her the two men in her life better than back of her palm, she smelled some plotting in the air.

Yes, Draco was plotting something.

And from the looks of it, it had something to do with Nott. That was going to be a long day.

She also knew that during the morning Riddle apparated at the Manor. She just knew it; women really did have a sixth sense. Going into Hermione's room to check up on her she was not surprised to see one Hermione Granger sleeping comfortable in Tom Riddle's arms.

So everything was finally falling into place. Extremely pleased with herself she quickly got a piece of parchment and started writing a letter:

_Dear Antonin,_

_Imagine my surprise this morning when I saw that Hermione and Riddle were sleeping together like two lovers in her room. I believe that you advised him correctly and I am pleased that you fulfilled your part of the plan. There will not be much time until everything will fall into place._

_I am really glad we both respected our agreement since we found a common goal._

_It was a pleasure doing business with you._

_Sincerely,_

_N.M._

Dolohov woke up that morning finding the letter from Narcissa. Those Malfoy women really know how to negociate. There were only a few steps to follow until his and Narcissa's plan will succeed. She did her part – got herself close to the mudblood, gained her trust while he advised the dark lord to do according to his wishes.

That was a great morning indeed.


	12. It's always quiet before the storm

**Dear readers,**

**I don't know if you have noticed but I have deleted a chapter (chapter 2, in fact) that had only an author note in it. So, that means that chapter 10 actually became chapter 9 and so on. I didn't want you to get confused; I just wanted to keep the story clean. This is my third update this week and I believe this is quite an achievement. Happy reading. **

Two sleeping bodies were gently rising up and down due to their breathing. They looked so peaceful there, without any worry in the world.

Nobody would have ever suspected that the boy wanted to conquer the world and the girl wanted him. That could consequently, by the laws of mathematics, mean that the girl wanted the world too. But she didn't know that yet.

A breeze of cold air entered the room making him wrap his arms around her seeking heat.

What a hilarious image would have been for all the people that knew him. The Dark Lord seeking for a source of heat. Moreover, the Dark Lord seeking the heat in one woman. A particularly mudblooded one.

But as long as sleep blessed them, that didn't matter.

They were of course not aware of what was happening around them. There was a scent of treason all over the Malfoy manor. Too bad they didn't know that Tom Riddle smelled treason.

A pair of long brown eyelashes fluttered. Once, twice, until the shapes started making sense. Hermione woke up next to Tom, who seemed very happy keeping her in his arms. He was breathing slowly, too superficial for a person who was in deep sleep like he liked her to think:

"I know you are awake." She whispered in his ear, so close that he could feel her warm breath against his skin.

He kept his eyes closed but his lips slowly worked their way in a smile. A smiling and happy looking Tom Riddle finally opened his eyes to meet hers.

"What gave me away?" He asked in a perfectly conventional tone.

"The breathing." She responded.

Her answer was met by another smile, directed towards her. They were sharing a pillow and their noses were almost touching, making her stomach flutter. He was so close…

"Well I'll just have to work on that then." He stated as if he was talking about homework. That scared her a little bit; she never got him to be himself around her. It was always that controlled attitude that gave her chills down her spine.

Deep brown curls were spread on the bed, the sheets were a mess and he was smiling. That was indeed a weird day.

"If I ask you a question can I get an honest answer out of you?" Hermione shifted a bit, so her hair won't bother him. Her voice trembled a bit but he chose to ignore that. Nothing will ruin his perfect morning. Or afternoon since the sun looked ready to set any second.

"It depends on the question."

"Why don't you kill me already? Spare me of all your evil plans. Everything I ever did since I was captured was to disturb your plotting and planning. There is no need for me to be here anymore."

He looked a bit taken aback by her question but it only took a moment and a very receptive person to see that on his face. But he took his time to answer, calmly removing the remaining curls from her face, since she did an awful job trying to do that.

"Do you miss your friends so much that you would die to be with them?"

"There is no guarantee that I will ever see them again. It's not them."

"I've never known a person who was so keen on dying. What's the reason?"

But she didn't answer. Her brows furrowed and there was a hint of a wrinkle on her forehead, a sign of her thinking.

"If you don't tell me I'll get it out from you." She knew what he was talking about.

"You've already raped me and now you want to use Legillimens on me."

"Well, tell me the reason then."

"It's not them. It's you. It's always you. It's how you behave and how you make everything around you lose color." But he showed no reaction on her words whatsoever. There was no hope, no possibility of him ever changing. The only thing left for Hermione was acceptance. And it was quite hard to accept that.

"You want me to proclaim my undying love for you?" He spat the word "love" like he was something very bad in his mouth. "You want me to marry you and have children and die in that sheer mediocrity?"

"You cannot die."

"That's beside the point. I was made for something else, Hermione."

"I know. I just hope your empire won't fall down into pieces like I will.

But it was already too late since her question was already answered. He will never change and he will never kill her. It would be the easy way out. And she was not a coward to kill herself. When there was nothing else left, you just have to live the moment.

"Just stay here a couple of minutes more…"

And he stayed, without saying anything.

After the visit of Draco Malfoy, Theodore found himself in a relative good mood. In fact, it was the best mood he had for a long time. Without wasting any more minutes he quickly dressed himself in a navy shirt and some matching trousers, got his cloak and left.

"What a wonderful day for plotting, isn't it?"

The girl was startled to say at least. Turning around, she was the reason of her disturbance.

"It's afternoon. What are you doing here, Theodore?"

Theodore traced her from her long legs up to her short skirt, to her blouse that was way to unbuttoned to ever look decent, finally to her face. She had a pretty face, he'd give her that. But she was far too vengeful and independent for his taste.

"Looking good, Pansy." Theo met her look with a dashing smile.

"I've always looked like that, Nott." She stated without shame.

"Yes, but you never looked more delicious like you do right now." Looking around, Theo grabbed a green apple from the table and took a bite from it.

"You're lucky they're not poisoned." Pansy rivaled his smile."So tell me, Nott, why did you come here. You certainly didn't come for a quick fuck since I already know that you are quite a customer on Knockturn Alley. So that leaves me with two options. You've come to propose or you want my help."

Letting her finishing her little speech, Theodore took another bite from the apple. It was always sweet to torture Parkinson a bit.

"You're more intelligent that people give you credit for, Pans." Fed up with the apple, he quickly discarded of him and brought his attention back to the reason he came there.

"You didn't come here to compliment me either. So please, enlighten me." Probably tired of standing on way-too-high heels all the time, Pansy motioned him to take a seat at the table. Nodding curtly towards her, he accepted her offer and sat on a black wooden chair that looked 100 years old.

"You won't offer me some tea then?" Theo asked the brunette which ahead of him, wanting to tease her more. He knew how to make girls interested; he learned that from his father.

"I am not your usual slag, Nott. Get to the point." So she was getting angry. It was really time to get to the point."

"Well, Pans…"

"Pansy." The girl cut him off immediately. "It's Pansy for you, dickhead. You think that I have forgotten but I don't. It's either Pansy of Mrs. Parkinson."

"Well, Pansy…" he started again. Only now he realized that he missed playing those games with her. She was always a worthy opponent.

"You know the Dark Lord took fancy in Potter's mudblood." Theodore finally started speaking.

"Hermione Granger, isn't it? Yes, there were rumors."

"Well, I want her." Theo stated, without shame. That took Pansy off guard. She would have expected lots of things from Nott but she didn't actually believe that he would get so low.

"You want a filthy mudblood? Is this why you are disturbing my afternoon?" Pansy actually managed to pout with her red lips – fact that actually made some men harden that insant.

"I want you to help me get her. You know your way with women. You know what to say and what buttons to push. "There were a few minutes of silence, but not awkward. Slythering knew when to speak and how to speak. He recognized that Pansy was carefully already organizing her strategies.

"What's in there for me?"

"You didn't come I came here without a reward, dear Pansy?" Theo smiled as he was ready to drop the bomb of the day. I'll give you Zabini on a silver plate." She smiled. A genuine smiled. He knew he came to the right place. But being a Slytherin herself, she couldn't help teasing him a little longer.

"What makes you think I want Zabini?" Pansy got slightly up her chair, bending over the table so he could see a fair share of her cleavage. "What makes you thing I don't want you?" She finished, fluttering her eyelashes almost seductively.

"Ooh, come on, Pans." Theo bended over the table too, so he could whisper something to her ear. Of course he looked down her blouse on the way, who wouldn't have?

"Pansy." She stated coldly, again.

"Pansy. You know it, I know it, Zabini does not know it. He won't have a clue. I can even make him believe that he is genuinely in love with you."

Pansy smiled again. So they had a deal. The job was done.

"What do I have to do?"

"The dark lord will be away from England in the next few weeks. I need you to befriend her and pour all kind of sweet shit into her brain."

"That seems fairly easy. You know how you're dealing with, though?"

"You didn't think I'd go into something like that without knowing the parameters, don't you?"

"Very well then."

"So we have a deal?"

"We have a deal." They both smiled a wicked smile to each other.

"You'll have Zabini in your bed in no time, Pans." With that, he gracefully lifted off the chair and started walking towards the door. Oh his way, he though he head a pitched voice screaming something like "IT'S PANSY, DICKHEAD."

Laying there in peaceful silence didn't last as much as Hermione wanted to. Soon an owl arrived at her window with a note from Tom.

Gathering his belongings quickly, he muttered something about Dolohov requesting his presence and left after giving her a kiss on her forehead.

She slept till afternoon so she needed to get out of bed before the day was lost. Wasting time was not permitted when having a dark lord around you trying to make your life a living hell. So she needed to seize the day (or what was left of it) and practically live any moment.

Before that, she needed to see Narcissa.

She quickly got under the shower and after scrubbing herself she dried her hair and dressed in a deep red dress. Leaving her room, she walked down the long corridors of the Manor, trying to get to the parlor where Narcissa was regularly having her tea at this hour. Walking past Lucius's office she thought she heard some voices. Blame it on the Gryffindor curiosity but she stopped for a second and tried to figure what those people were saying.

But she didn't hear Lucius's deep voice as she expected to. No, there was definitely a man in that room and it was not Lucius. There was also a feminine voice that she reasoned it belonged to Narcissa. Content that she found Mrs. Malfoy, she approached the door intending to knock but her hand stopped the minute it got in the air. There was a name that caught her attention in the whole conversation and that name was "Voldemort". Narcissa and the other man were talking about Tom.

"_Glad you accepted my offer, Antonin."_

"_It will all go as planned Narcissa, I assure you." _

"_I hope so." There was a moment of silence but it was interrupted by the man Hermione realized was Dolohov._

"_But won't that upset the dark lord?"_

"_If he doesn't find out it won't upset it." And there was laughter._

"_What about the mudblood?" The man asked._

"_She's asleep for now. I believe that he is with her right now. They got in a fight last night."_

"_Well this won't last for long, won't it?" Dolohov asked her voice filled with amusement._

"_I hope so, Antonin. For the sake of everybody."_

"_I should get going now, I'll meet him in 5 minutes and you know how he gets when people are late. Inform me of your progress here."_

That was her cue of leaving.

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. She trusted Narcissa and she was plotting something against Tom with none other than Dolohov. His right hand. Tom's right hand. And it involved her.

She trusted that woman with her live, and until now, none of her actions seemed to give away hard feeling about Hermione. She faked everything from her compliments to her worry for her. She needed to tell someone but to whom? She couldn't go running to Tom, he would think that _she _was plotting something.

No, this was a dead end situation.

She needed to go back to her bedroom and figure this all out until it was too late.

But she still needed to see Narcissa.

Narcissa was standing on the parlor as usually, drinking her tea. She was slightly disturbed that Hermione wasn't there already; it had become quite a habit for them to drink the tea together. But she was somewhat pleased that her conversation with Dolohov went well. If she will succeed, there will be hope for all of them.

And there wasn't even much to sacrifice either. Her goal only required a little bit of manipulation and some smiles. Not even money, and definitely not human lives.

Yes, it was like a breath of fresh air. After all that murder and lives lost there was still a chance at peace. All she needed was peace since all those years of war worn her out. She was a woman and she needed her rest.

Her line of thoughts was disturbed by a quiet cough from her back. It was Hermione.

"Good morning, dear." She greeted the girl.

"Good morning, Narcissa." There was something off with Hermione today, she could tell. She was worried.

"Something's the matter, dear?" Narcissa asked caringly.

"No." Hermione answered straight. "I was only reminiscing last night."

Narcissa smiled, completely understanding the girl.

"That's a lot to handle dear. I guess Tom's visit to your room made it all feel better after all?"

"How'd you know?" Hermione asked, still that serious look upon her face.

"I know men better than you think, dear."

"I just wanted to thank you." Hermione started. "I won't be staying for tea today since I am feeling a bit down."

_There is something wrong with this girl, _Narcissa thought.

"It's ok, darling." Narcissa said with a reassuring smile. "Get your rest."

Hermione nodded and left the parlor.

With her departure, Narcissa picked up her thinking again. Whatever the girl had it had to wait. She needed to convince Voldemort that it was an intelligent move to take Hermione with him in his trip. Spending time alone was all they needed for him to understand that there is much more in this world than conquering. And Hermione was the perfect woman for him. Smart, beautiful and daring. And he seemed to have a soft point for her.

Narcissa needed to get rid of Nott and his scheming. The boy won't understand that Hermione was the only one who could succeed in making Voldemort reconsider his thoughts of conquering the world. He was vicious and they didn't need a vicious leader. The world needed someone strong, powerful and stable.

Dolohov was having the second chat that day with Voldemort. Of course, everything reduced back to the mudblood. That's why he needed to convince him to take the mudblood in that trip with him and maybe give them all a vacation. They needed it.

The young ones didn't understand that yet, but living in a world of torture and chaos was hardly the best way to live. They needed peace, time to meditate over the war and rebuilt everything that was shattered.

Of course he supported Vodemort and his cause at first, but now that everything has been accomplished there was hardly any reason for Tom to enslave the rest of the world. He already had England.

The downside of this was that Dumbledore scattered his fucking Order all over the globe so they had to hunt everyone down and kill them. And that of course that made Tom believe that his goal now was the world.

And then the mudblood came into scene and everything started turning out for the best. He wasn't thirsty for blood anymore; he could hardly remember when Tom actually killed a person during last week. Her presence meant that there was actually hope. And he will support the Mudblood in everything she needed to make his lord _better. _

He believed that by making Yaxley writing Draco to tell the dark lord about him coming to Russia will do the job but it seems that the younger Malfoy was nothing else but an idiot.

Seriously, the only member of that family that actually had something in her head was Narcissa.

Tom entered his office and Dolohov found appropriate to put up his occulmancy shield.

"Antonin." Tom greeted.

"Hello, My Lord."

"What's the reason you called me here? There were other places you could have talked to me." Tom started.

"I am sorry my lord but I only saw fit to call you to the office since it's work related matters I want to discuss."

"Fine." Tom said before lying on his chair.

"Your presence is required in Russia, My lord. They discovered the remains of an Order shelter and they want you to inspect it. Yaxley said that there are important traces there that could lead you to the resistance." Voldemort looked in deep thought. Dolohov saw on his face that he didn't want to leave England in the near future.

"Very well, then. I need a team of the best death eaters, a potions master and a researcher."

"Of course my lord." Antonin nodded. "We may have a bit of a problem here. We don't have any active researcher yet since they are sent to investigate some bunkers in Africa."

Tom pursed his lips one moment but began to speak nonetheless.

"Do you have any alternatives?"

That was the moment he expected. It was all going brilliantly until now.

"I was thinking about Miss Granger, sir. She is known for her brain and she will do a very good job."

"Do you imagine what scandal would it be if I showed there accompanied by a mudblood? I thought the best of you, Antonin. You seem to disappoint me."

"On the contrary, my lord, she is the best option we have right now."

"I'll think about it. You may leave, Antonin."

"Farewell, my lord."

With a smile on his face, Antonin apparated away. He needed to tell Narcisa.

After Antonin left Tom spent a few minutes thinking of what had just happened. Did he, a major death eater, suggested her, a mudblood, to take an important part in a mission? Of course, he was reasonable in his thinking and the girl really had a brain that was a shame to be wasted.

He needed to see her, again.

And with that thought, he apparated in her room at the Manor.

He was not surprised to find her there, on the bed, reading "Hogwarts, A History" as ever. Quite a beauty she was with her deep brown orbs watching him intently, almost questioning him what he was doing there. But she didn't say a word so he decided to make the first step.

"Why are you reading that book over and over again?" He asked, amused.

"I have nothing better to do." She responded.

Tom really wanted to suggest something with an acute sexual tendency but decided against it. It was to soon.

"What are you doing here?" She questioned him.

"I have nothing better to do." He answered her with a small smile playing on his lips.

He couldn't do anything while she got out of bed and walked towards him until she was so close that he could see that freckle on her right cheek. He always liked that freckle.

"Very well then. Undress yourself."

"What?" What was that girl saying, she was raped last night. By him.

She stood impossibly closer to him and stood on her toes to give her the impression that she was in control.

"I told you I want you to undress yourself."

_Review, review and review if you liked it._


	13. Lazy nights and long days

**A.N.: There are not many things to say; only that I am going through a rough patch in my life and I believe that you can see it from my writing. Enjoy!**

_She stood impossibly closer to him and stood on her toes to give her the impression that she was in control._

_"I told you I want you to undress yourself."_

"I don't think that's what you want, Granger. You could get hurt" Riddle's features turned into a smirk in all its beauty. Hermione was fairly certain that if she pushed the right buttons he would do what she says but we all know that Riddle isn't one to play with. And you can never know what his right buttons are because they are constantly changing.

"What if I got hurt? I would get hurt by you and I am positive that you said you were the only one who gets to hurt me" Hermione had no idea what possessed her, she just needed to feel him a bit before he left.

"You will only get hurt when I decide you deserve it. You could set the whole planet on fire and you may not get hurt if I'm in a good mood." He gently moved near her, leaving only a breath between them. "Today, mudblood, is not one of those days that I am in a good mood. So you will probably get hurt and that is not my intention whatsoever. But that's quite an improvement on your side, you never initiated sex before."

"Who said anything about sex?" Hermione asked. That seemed to have taken him aback for a second but he hit it very well. Years and years of practice, she thought.

"Then what activity do you have in your mind that does not involve our clothes?"

"Take off your clothes and you will find out." Hermione replied, knowing that she had just set a challenge for him. Well, he was never one to drop out of something so he complied.

Gently tugging at his shirt, he unbuttoned it without rushing, exposing his chest and abdomen. Hermione was starting to blush all over and when he acknowledged the reaction her body had to his he tried to suppress a smirk but he couldn't. She was so predictable sometimes.

Taking his time with his belt, he slowly undid it than unzipped his trousers letting them fall down to the ground. Stepping out of them, he was now almost touching her. Taking a step back to take him in, Hermione's features sketched something that looked like a smile. Slowly scanning everything from his neck – where there were some scratches of her own making from the previous night – to his chest, and then tracing with her eyes the fine line of hair pointing downwards, she suddenly stopped.

"No, this won't do. You still have something on."

Repeatedly trying to enter her mind he realized that she had put up her occulmancy walls. Of course she knew he was going to try entering her mind, the minx.

"You mean the socks?" Tom asked her tentatively with a smirk on his face. He always smirked, the bastard.

"You know very well what I mean, Tom." Hermione replied quickly.

"I don't, actually." They were playing a game now, she knew it. She knew that it was dangerous to play games with him for the start but she couldn't just help herself. His influence, she though.

"Well, well… I thought you were more perceptive than that, Tom. I want every piece of clothing stripped from you." She finally stated.

Gladly, he did her biding. Reaching for his legs, he quickly discarded his socks. No need to waste time there. But when he finally reached his boxers he waited for a second to look into her eyes. What was she playing at? She had told him at the beginning that this is not going to be a sexual encounter, much to his annoyance. Well, she could never hurt him in any way and getting alive with it so what did he have to lose if he chose to play her game? Nothing.

So, with surprisingly steady hand he lowered his boxers and stepped out of them too.

During this whole time she just looked him in his eyes. He guessed that he didn't have the courage to look _there_, but he shouldn't provoke the minx. Looked like she was in control that moment.

Slightly trembling, Hermione circled him until she reached his back. She was so close that her own breathes caressed his spine, fact that made him almost shiver. His back was pale, like his whole being. Hesitantly, Hermione lifted a trembling hand to rest between his shoulder blades. Her touch was so shy, so inexperienced that Tom almost,_ almost _felt sorry for her lost innocence. After a few seconds she begun to spread her fingers across his skin, slowly, hesitantly, stroking the length of his spine with her fingers.

"You know me from inside out" Hermione stated. "You have been in my mind and inside me forcefully. But I never got to know you, you know. I never got to see you. Not even your body. I believe that you owe that to me."

So that was what all was about. She wanted to see him. Well, couldn't she just ask?

"So this is a study lesson for you, I reckon." Tom teased.

"You can call it this way." But he couldn't respond to her since her right hand joined her left one into somehow caressing his back. Those were tender, innocent touches, not something he experimented during his years of life. No, there was nothing compared to that. She tried to memorize every inch of skin she could feel but that didn't stop him from feeling a bit unwell. He was foreign to this kind of gestures and couldn't help to feel exposed a bit.

Yes, he was feeling exposed again. Yet the feeling quickly vanished as her hands started running down his arms, touching everything from his shoulder to his fingers. Her hands were trembling a bit, he could feel. He also felt something like a light electricity everywhere she touched him. She was leaving traces of heat and fire on his skin, and she was barely aware of that. Slowly, painfully, she circled his side and her hands reached from his neck down to his chest.

There she stood, in front of him, her eyes big and brown staring into his own. There was no need for words or mind games, this time. He would let her do what she wanted to do. When her hand touched the back of his neck he exhaled heavily, his warm breath caressing her face. But that hand didn't stay there, but had a mind of its own. It came down, slowly, teasingly running down his chest to his abdomen where it found those dark hairs and played with them. Rubbing her thumb over his abdomen, he felt his eyes close but he couldn't let that happen. He had to fight to remain aware of what she was doing to him.

But she had other plans.

Slowly, her left hand rested on his hip while her right one started following the same torturous road. When she took a half step closer, he could feel her touching every inch of him. But her lips had a mind of her own and they reached his upper arm and then she did something he never expected her to. She kissed him there, in a place he never found appealing to say at least. But then the lips followed a path of their own while her hands started caressing his arms. He felt them pressed on his collar bone and then on his neck. And there was a storm of lips on his skin and he had nothing else to do but to wait and feel. She kissed the back of his neck after carefully having lifted the soft short black hair that was there. His breaths were becoming heavier and heavier and his desire for her was growing as seconds passed. She descended down his spine only for her hands to reach for his forehead. He felt a hand over his eyes and he got the hint and closed them. Then those lips kissed his eyebrow and his angular cheek.

When he felt her head resting on his collarbone he understood that he was finished. Slowly, carefully, he lifted a hand and placed it on the small of her back, tugging her closer to him. A second later he decided to wrap his arms around her and search for her face between that mass of brown curls.

Big brown eyes were looking almost pleading into his, and he understood what she wanted. He had to make up for the other night, and that was her pleading for.

Ever so slowly his hands reached for her face and after a long time he placed a kiss on her lips. It was sweet, almost caring. He was apologizing, she understood that much. She knew he didn't like being touched, much less in this manner but he endured it for as long she wanted, and she was glad for that.

Their lips touched and she could feel his tongue demand entrance into her mouth. She granted it, believing that there was nothing else for her to lose since she has already lost her heart to him.

"Do you want it?" He asked her far too gently for a dark lord.

She stood there in complete silence for a couple of minutes and understood what he meant. Did she want it?

"Only if you make me want it." She answered pure fear in her eyes. He didn't blame her; he knew that it was a bold request to make after the previous circumstances.

She must have been wrong but for a few seconds there was a smile on his face. His smile was immediately blocked from her view by her top being removed from her. His moves were lazy, almost pleading. Elegant long fingers ran over her neck and collarbones, reaching back to undo her bra. That little piece of material discarded, she immediately felt exposed to him. Her hands reached to cover her breasts but he grabbed them in mid air and slowly bringing them to her sides.

"Don't." Was all that he said.

Going down on his knees, his lips started running patterns down her breasts while his hands were effectively discarding her other items of clothing. Her pants and underwear followed to the ground when his mouth started going down her stomach.

Fairly scared, she quickly grabbed his face with her hand, begging him to look her in the eyes. When he lifted his look he could see that she was terrified. She had every right to.

"You have to let me." Tom stated. Even in his position, he didn't find sitting on his knees before her repulsive. No, this was his apology. And Dark Lords never apologized in words. "You have to find that I can bring you as much pleasure as I can pain. You could start to like the feeling of being dominated."

But she only stared at him without saying anything, and after a few long moments she closed her eyes. His face on his stomach, he grinned widely, knowing that she couldn't see him, she could only feel him. With decided and long swirls he started tracing circles on her lower abdomen until he reached the source of her heat. Without hesitating a moment further he gave her a long, feather-touch lick on her mound and she moaned. And what a beautiful sound she made, he thought. But his enthusiasm didn't last long since her feet started trembling and he saw himself forced to carry her to the bed. Lowering her down, he took his time kissing her mouth and sought reassurance in her eyes. When his permission was granted, he lowered himself and used his strong hands to part her legs far apart.

Before he started, he took one look at her whole self, finding himself enjoying the view. She looked luxuriant, royal even with her breath uneven and her breaths slowly going up and down. But he needed no more permission when his mouth attacked her mound almost aggressively. The first two licks make her arch her back making him to set a hand on her ribcage, steadying her. His teasing licks made her moan and arch and mumble something that could not be understood. But then his mouth found her clit and with a few licks he could feel it swelling impossibly. She was now panting heavily when he has interrupted by a rather odd statement.

"Please." She managed to say between all those moans. "Please stop teasing." She muttered, her eyes closed and her skin a light color of pink.

Crawling himself above her, he met her gaze before he settled down to kiss her. He was now in between her long legs, his member throbbing from all the desire. She was more than ready but knew better.

"It's going to hurt a bit, but only this time." He found his duty to inform her, since the last time he roughly took her against a wall, in a balcony. Maybe in time she will be able to like such encounters but not now.

"I know," She replied. "You're not actually small." She avoided his gaze but he saw the small smile playing on her lips when saying that.

Without wasting any more time he positioned himself at her entry and started slowly inching his way inside. From time to time he would stop only for a moment to look at her, but all he ever heard was a soft "oh." With one determined thrust he finally got inside her fully, waiting a few moments for her to adjust.

When she reached out to kiss him he closed his mouth over hers and inched his way out and then in again. She arched so delicately and he understood that the hard part was done.

"There will only be pleasure from now on…" He whispered in her ear when he finally started a steady determined pace.

He was so lost in his own pleasure and in her tightness that he could barely head her moans that filled the room. When she was ready enough steady hands gripped her waist rolling them over so she was on top. Curious eyes met his and he understood she never did something like that. Of course she didn't she'd only been with him and those times were rushed. He saw him biting her lower lip in confusion but he used his hands to lift her up a bit and then lower himself onto him. She understood what he wanted and then started moving ever so slowly at first, but then found a rhythm of her own. Pleasure started building on her stomach, and an unprepared wave of pleasure washed over her so deeply that ne needed to steady her. Seeing that she reached her climax, he took the hint and rolled them over pumping gloriously into her. A few seconds later he followed her, crashing on the mattress.

Without words spoken, the night found them tangled in a mess of sheets, sleeping soundly.

*  
Narcissa Malfoy was not a stupid woman. Not by far.

When she head Riddle enter Hermione's room she placed some charms on the room so they wouldn't be disturbed. When she didn't hear any screams in the next half an hour she decided it was safe to "let the children alone to play".

Draco came later that day with a face that suggested he was planning something. He was disregarding the fact that his mother knew him better than everyone else and didn't realize that she always knew what he was doing/planning/plotting.

With a wide grin on her face Narcissa set for her new task that day. Find what Draco was planning and ruin it in such way he would believe it was his entire fault.

*  
Later that day, Theodore Nott stopped by the manor trying to speak to Draco. Due to the fact that he passed by Hermione's room on the hall, he might have heard some pants and moans coming from there.

Realizing that is was Hermione and Riddle, he decided to spend the remaining time of that day drowning himself in expensive amounts of firewhisky.

The next morning came too quickly for everybody, especially for Lucius Malfoy. He woke up that morning with a sleeping Narcissa on his chest and a mad Draco knocking on their door.

Looking at the clock, it was only 6:30 AM. So what in the work would make his son almost run over his door? Quickly wrapping a robe around him he answered the door smoothly, trying not to wake his sleeping wife.

But what he saw there was not what he expected.

His son, Draco Malfoy, was on his knees, trembling and shivering while covered in crimson.

"What happened to you?" Startled, Lucius grabbed Draco and dragged him to his bed. Draco was breathing hard and Lucius realized that there was no way he could gather information from his son in this state.

He needed to heal him.

Narcissa wake up with a bloodied Draco near her and her first thought was to scream.

"What happened?" Narcissa asked, almost on the verge of crying.

"I do not know. I DO NOT KNOW!" Lucius asked, his temper lost long ago.

"He's unconscious", Lucius added. "We need a healer."

"I'll heal him myself" Narcissa screamed at her husband without any regret. "Quick, give me some Blood Replenishing potion and some PepperUp potion.

Lucius acted more on his instinct, quickly running to the bathroom where he got the potion Narcissa asked him to deliver.

Reaching Draco, he saw his son without his shirt on and a mad-looking Narcissa doing spell after spell.

After healing his ribcage and his bruises, Narcissa scanned from some internal bleeding but she quickly found there was none. Motioning to Lucius to bring her the potions, he did as she asked and looked at his wife while was forcing them on his son's throat.

A few moments later Draco woke up startled, his first impulse being to hit everyone in the room. Good thing Narcissa had reflexes and quickly got out of his way before being hit by her own son.

"It's me, Draco." She started. "You are home now, healed."

"Oh…" Was all that he could say before he crashed back into the bed.

"You need to tell me what happened, Draco." Narcissa started, looking more worried than he had ever seen her in her life.

"There was… a raid." Draco begun talking but his words were coming muffled out of his mouth. He was in shock - that was for sure.

"Continue." Lucius finally added, after a few good moments of being completely wordless. He had never seen Narcissa in such state. He was not worried for Draco now, but for his wife.

He expected her to cry, whine and do nothing while her son was dying near her. Instead, the woman bravely healed her son and started questioning him. That was a side of her he never got to see. Perhaps he's been underestimating her all along.

"The raid… Russia. There was strong resistance." Draco said a few moments after, his voice still not totally recovered.

"Who ordered that raid?" Lucius asked, startled. He never heard anything about a raid in muggle Russia before.

"Aunt Bella." He responded.

After a few moments of filled silence Draco continued:

"She came to us, we were a bit drunk and she told us the Dark Lord ordered us to go after some muggles in Russia. We never felt the dark mark burning but we believed her."

"We?" Narcissa asked, looking in deep thought.

"There were others." Draco coughed.

"What others?" Lucius continued.

"Nott, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy."

"Do you mean that five unknowing teenagers and my sister went last night after some muggles? What WAS ON your mind?" Narcissa was positively angry now.

"YOU might have AS WELL STARTED A WAR, you dumb boy." She continued.

She rarely lost her temper but this was a matter of national security now. Who knows what will happen now, and damn she didn't want to be near Riddle when he found out.

"Where are the others?" She reached for Draco, almost ripping his arm off.

Gladly, she was interrupted by a calm Lucius that seemed to still have some reason in him.

"Cissy, calm down." He patted her back slowly.

"Where are the others, I asked?" Narcissa repeated her question, hoping that Draco would fully understand the gravity of the situation and answer her.

"At their places. They were injured. No one died." Draco coughed one last time, before drifting into an uncomfortable sleep into his parent's bed.

"Well at least some good news." Narcissa finally regained her tempered but she knew this situation would not be easy to handle. Her sister was mad, she was aware of that but she never thought that mad woman would do something like that to some children.

"Lucius?" She asked, looking composed.

"Yes, dear?" A thoughtful Lucius answered.

"What are we going to do?"

"I have no idea, dear, but we need to find the Dark Lord and tell him the situation."

"He will kill Bella." Narcissa responded after a while, looking a bit sad.

"She asked for it. She knew what was coming if she crossed him"

"She didn't only cross him, Lucius. She also endangered his plans. There will be a lot of consequences here."

"I know, dear, I know." Lucius said, trying to confort his wife by hugging her tightly.

"We need to contact Antonin."

Not being able to catch much sleep at his age, Dolohov knew something was wrong.

A quick floocall from Narcissa confirmed his fears. Bellatrix was crazy.

"What are we going to do now?" The head of Narcissa asked him though the red flames.

"We need to inform him. It's for the best."

"She might have started a new war, Antonin." Narcissa said, her features full of sadness for both her sister and the fate of the wizarding world.

"I know. That's why he needs to know."

_If you like it, review. It helps me a lot. _


	14. The beginnings of absence

**A.N. Sorry for the wait. I really need a beta since I hardly have time to write the story, much less to correct it. **

6,902,500,000.

This is how many human souls inhabit this earth.

In every human's life there is at least one moment when you figure it all out. It lasts about a few seconds, but that moment is responsible for the rest of your life. You blink your eyes a few times, inhale, exhale, and then it all makes sense.

I am sure you have all felt it. In that moment you are so certain of your every action, so sure of yourself that nothing else matters. You are positive that you can overcome any obstacle, even if it means sacrificing it all for a goal. And then you open your eyes, and start to fight.

_Beware of brilliant minds because they will bring this earth to destruction_. Because in that moment, that brilliant mind settles for more than a new job, a new apartment or getting married. The mind that will want the world, that mind will begin to fall.

And there are many things in this world that makes us cry, but nothing is sadder than one fallen mind.

_Because the world cannot be shared and it cannot be conquered_. The world has a mind of its own, and few people ever understood that.

There is a balance between quality and quantity that once disturbed generates a chain reaction leading to nothingness.

Thomas Marvolo Riddle wanted the world.

Simple as that.

He woke up one day and decided the world waited for him to wake, smiled to himself, and started conquering. He managed to conquer Hogwarts, he managed to conquer Albus Dumbledore and he also managed to conquer Harry Potter.

Yet, he could not conquer Hermione Granger. He never understood why, but even when she was a servant, even when she submitted to him or she gave herself to him, she was never his. He never managed to conquer her.

We all fought losing battles. Hermione tried every day to conquer the war against her hair. There were only small victories, not a complete and irrefutable victory. Draco Malfoy wanted to conquer his father's admiration. Lucius never told the boy how much he loved him and how proud he was of him. That fact always made Draco try more and more, even if that meant exhaustion. Draco never understood that he already conquered that battle. Narcissa Malfoy tried to conquer her respect in a world dominated that men. Antonin Dolohov only wanted a secure place for his child to grow in. What Antonin never understood that he already knew too much. He knew the dark lord better than anyone alive; he could figure him out and sometimes predict his course of action. That was a lot for a man to handle, and Antonin thought he had enough. He just wanted a sort of retirement but deep inside his soul he understood that Riddle would never let him go.

Would you ever settle for anything less than you could have?

So what is the world actually?

I start to believe that it's a mocking force that once in a while likes to show us its power.

How can you conquer such a force?

Well, you cannot.

Hermione was just plain little Hermione.

Tom was an unnerving brat with no redeeming qualities.

There was nothing special about them, except they both wanted the world.

What they failed to understand is that each other's worlds would be more than enough to live for.

Hermione was lying awake staring at the ceiling. She heard some noises earlier that made her wake up and now she found she could not sleep.

Glued to her skin was no other that Tom Riddle, his head gloriously crushing her stomach. She didn't know how they got in that position – last time she checked he was sleeping with his back turned at her. She didn't try to touch him or god forbid – hug him. Once they finished the mind blowing sex encounter he turned his back at her and motioned for her to sleep. She knew she should be content with the fact that he didn't rape her. She wanted a few hours alone with him, having sex (because making love is a foreign concept to her) and she got just that. Without the adjacent bruises this time and well, it counted for something.

But as her eyes snapped open she realized that there was another source of heat and it somewhere very close to her.

And as she lowered her eyes on her stomach, she saw Tom was elegantly resting his head on her stomach, with no remorse whatsoever. He was in a rather awkward position, bent at the waist, his arms gently tugging at her legs and respectively, her right breast.

If she didn't know better she thought he looked like a child searching for his mother during sleep.

But Tom Riddle was never fond of mothers of fathers whatsoever.

Yet her thoughts were interrupted by another round of noises from the hall. It seemed that somebody was fighting – which was not odd for the manor, mind you, but this time there was something different. It usually was a conflict between Lucius and the house-elves or Draco. And sometimes Narcissa would be arguing with some of her infuriating pureblooded friends. But Hermione thought she heard Dolohov's voice. And Narcissa's too. By the looks of it, it was serious.

Tom seemed to be disturbed by the noises too, since she could feel him moving slowly against her body, seeking silence.

Should she wake him?

How did one wake a dark lord?

Another round of mumbles made her decide.

She would wake him.

But how?

"You should try by helping me get rid of this bloody erection" A low voice disturbed the awkward silence, slightly muffled by her own skin. So she didn't need to wake him up, after all. He seemed to be awake already and not only in one perspective.

"Why are you awake?" Hermione snapped at him, regretting immediately that she screamed at him. But hey, he wasn't actually a piece of sunshine either.

Tom shifted between the sheets slightly, and then lazily moved up, until their heads were at the same level.

"I'm a light sleeper too. I was probably awake before you but ever since you woke up your bloody mind couldn't shut up for a second."

"Wait WHAT? Why are you reading my mind, hm?"

"You always forget to put your occulmency walls up when you wake up, Granger. You always put them up when you meet me."

Hermione suppressed a growl as she tried to get up. He was leaving her with no air.

When a strong hand pushed her back on the mattress and felt a body climbing on her she knew that leaving was no choice.

There, on top of her, in all his naked glory, a dark lord was smiling at her genuinely. He was breath-taking of course – only that Hermione didn't know how many times he could take her breath without actually killing her. That was a thought to hold on to.

"What about my erection?" He asked, showing his teeth.

"What about your erection?" Hermione asked, getting the idea.

"Well, you could take care of me or I could take care of you. It's really your choice, though." He responded, his tone extremely seriously but the smile on his face was telling her something else.

"What do you want me to do?" Hermione asked her mouth a big O. She firstly thought he wanted sex but his smile was telling her something else. Oh no, no, no. She will not do that. She refuses to do that.

As she was cursing in her mind all the dark lords of all times and the one who invented oral sex, she thought at the possibility. Well, Tom was actually very clean and good looking, all this body parts were equally exciting to her – ok there were some that offered a new level of excitement in her lower belly but she couldn't put her mouth onto them willing them, could she? Could she?

"Sometimes you think too much" Tom said as his hands started to caress her sides teasingly. "No, I will not make you do that, not yet." He replied her thoughts, as if he owned them. "You're still scared and there's no time for me to show you how."

His statement made her heart skip a beat. Oh Merlin, sooner or later she will have to do it.

Wait, why was he still in her mind?

"Get out." She pushed him lightly – well, maybe a little bit rougher – away from her but that didn't really helped since he had other things planned for them because he shifted them both and she landed unceremoniously onto him.

But just then she saw his lips and something started to develop between them.

And she felt the world spinning a bit and she knew she had to kiss him.

For a moment, only for a moment – she swore.

And as she gently lay down to kiss him the door made a cracking sound opening rather rudely.

"My Lord, we have a problem." A rather amused Dolohov stood in the doorway, trying to catch his breath.

But he looked slightly taken aback by the fact that he caught his precious Lord and Hermione rather humping. Before he could even mutter an apology Tom's hand motioned in the air and the door closed, Dolohov on the other side of it.

"Great. Now I'll have to obliviate him." Riddle stated, rather amused by the situation.

But before Hermione ever got a chance to process everything – that begun with her trying to kiss Tom and Dolohov seeing her naked, Riddle was already dressed and ready to go – leaving her kind of hot and bothered.

He went for the door to leave but he stopped mid way, turning rather dramatic on his feet and Hermione found herself pinned to the mattress.

As not so gentle lips caressed hers, she responded fully.

Yes, he was a good kisser.

"I have to go." He stated.

And as soon as he said that he was already out of the room.

So it seemed that the dark lord wasn't one for long goodbyes.

The great hall at the Malfoy Manor was agitated to say at least.

Narcissa Malfoy was pacing the floor while Lucius was trying to get a hold of her and calm her down.

Antonin looked rather stressed and there was a guilty looking Draco sitting on the couch.

"What's the matter?" Tom voice's sounded in the room, making them all stop whatever they were doing and immediately turn their eyes to him.

"My lord," Narcissa approached him silently. That was not good. Narcissa was never one to approach him in such matters if she wasn't directly involved.

"It's Bellatrix." And then he knew. That crazy woman had done something reckless, something that involved Draco for sure.

"Tell me everything." Lord Voldemort stated, knowing he wouldn't like what he was going to hear.

After everyone explained to him everything they knew there was a long moment of silence filling the room. He could tell by their faces that they were all scared to death. But as soon as his mind started putting up a plan he forgot about all of them.

30 minutes and a lot more shivers than he could count from Draco later, he finally spoke:

"As soon as Bellatrix shows up send her to me. She will show up because she does not know the meaning of the word consequence." Antonin and Lucius nodded their heads. Narcissa looked at peace, she knew that Bellatrix will get what she wanted and somehow the Dark Lord will avenge the fact that she messed up with her son. "Draco and the others:" Malfoy shook his head up, looking frightened. He had every reason to because he stepped on Tom's shoes and there was no coming back from that. He fucked this up even more than the time he didn't manage to kill Dumbledore. "You are to pack and meet me at the headquarters within the hour. Announce the others. I do not care in which state they are in, they will come."

Draco nodded and left from his room shivering. He was half expecting a Crucio on his way to the stairs but it never came. Little did he know what the Dark Lord had in mind.

"Antonin and Lucius."

"Yes, my lord." Two voices greeted him rather scared.

"I want a meeting in the headquarters arranged in a half of hour. I want everybody there, no matter the ranks."

"Yes, my lord." They said, proceeding to the fireplace. As soon as they dissolved in the green flames Tom and Narcissa were the only ones left in the room.

"My lord," Narcissa started, knowing that he had something for her to do in particular.

"What your son did today was foolish and will not go unpunished." Tom started, his face a mask of sheer calmness.

"I know, my lord." Narcissa's face betrayed her steady voice. The woman was looking like a volcano ready to erupt.

"We will be departing for Russia in an hour. Your son and husband will play an important role of what's about to happen. Meanwhile, I need to do a favor for me."

She was expecting that, for sure.

"Anything."

"I need you to introduce Hermione to the research I've been doing. I also want you to give her a wand with her all time."

"Very well, my lord. Have a good trip." Narcissa concluded.

As soon as Riddle apparated away she left out a heavy sigh, crushing onto the leather couch.

She knew him too well to think he would say goodbye to Hermione. He was still in denial of his feelings but with a bit of luck this trip will set all his doubts apart. Until then, she had a Hermione to deal with.

Going upstairs, Narcissa was not surprised to see Hermione fully dressed and waiting for someone to come to her.

She never the intelligence of the girl, and even as she grew fond of her she discovered every time that her reactions were extremely elegant in every situation. She didn't weep or scream, she didn't overdramatize and she never cried over unimportant things.

As soon as she stepped into her room, Hermione turned around greeting her with a frown.

"What's wrong, Narcissa?"

The old woman knew better than to mess with the muggleborn's nerves so she spat it out as well as she could:

"There has been a situation. They are gone."

Hermione took the news well; it was something she expected from the whispers she heard downstairs.

"He wanted me to give you this." Narcissa added, her hand holding something that looked very familiar to Hermione.

"My wand. He wanted you to give me my wand back. This is serious, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, dear."

"How long?" Hermione asked, even if she didn't want to look interested. But why was she asking anyway? It's not like she would miss Riddle and his wicked ways.

Smiling knowingly, Narcissa replied:

"Nobody knows. It's only you and me for some time now. He also left some papers for you to study. A research, I guess."

Hermione nodded.

He's gone.

As in away and not here. Somewhere god-knows-where in the world, all by himself. It's not that she missed him, no, she did not. But somewhere inside her she knew he wanted to be fine, breathe and be alive.

She didn't know from where she got the feeling but he was not safe.

She was sure something went wrong and he went away to fix that something.

If only those pathetic excuses of death eaters knew how to follow orders. Simple orders - that was all that she asked for. You know – close the door, open the window. It always reduced to that kind of simplicity.

But before she knew it she realized that she started thinking like him.

What she said earlier sounded like it was taken from his mouth.

Everything was wrong, so wrong. She wasn't even bothered that he didn't say goodbye. It was not like he had any obligation towards her. She was just a pawn, a weak pathetic woman whom he sometimes shared bed with. She was nothing more than a mudblood, the scum of the scum, the very reason that war ever happened.

Now she didn't even blame him and his ambitions anymore. It was clearer than water that he didn't care – he had a world at his feet and he was not willing to share. Not that she wanted the world, she really didn't. If she would ever want the world she would have to fight with him for it and Riddle would definitely win. He always won. She just wanted him.

And as soon as he left the manor she could feel his absence. She knew he was gone and she won't be seeing him anytime soon, probably never.

And that left a hole in her heart.

A hole that will only be healed with knowledge.

Yes, knowledge was everything she ever asked for.

The headquarters of Voldemort were somewhere remote; somewhere nobody ever suspected he would hide. There were spells put on those walls that were unbreakable. The people who entered that place changed and not always for the best.

He chose that place because it was ancient and filled with dark magic. He could feel it all around him, surrounding him. If you weren't strong enough, the magic would kill you. And that was the best way to test his Death Eaters. Only the strong survived and they weren't few.

He always chose to keep his researchers in a different place than this. This was where all the meetings took place and they discussed the plans.

To Voldermort, a researcher was ten times more valuable than any other man in that room.

Hermione had the brain, the mind and the dedication.

She could be very valuable to him.

He needed her to be valuable to him.

He needed something to explain why she made him feel _that way._

He could feel the heat around him as the Death Eaters started to apparate in the room.

The room, as they called it, was actually an amphitheater decorated in shades of gray. There was no need for a "feminine" touch there since the time spent there was for deciding the best course of action every time.

Riddle preferred to use this room only when he had meetings with his researchers, discussing ideas and schemes but tonight it seemed the best of them all.

When the time was right, he apparated on his throne, in the middle of the room, motioning all of them to shut up.

In a few seconds all the room fell silent.

"Rumors spread fast and I am sure that all of you heard until now what happened in Russia. I will not repeat the events and I WILL NOT TOLERATE such slips from anyone in this room. You are gathered here because at some point I found you worthy to be my followers. I will not question your abilities to follow me now but I believe that if I came up with a test many of you will fail. You are here because you are able to control all your other emotions in order to achieve a higher purpose but I am afraid I was wrong. There are some of you that still possess traits that only make you weak. And for the first time in so many years I do not refer to love. Love is something unworthy of my time but it's not unworthy of your times. You chose to have a family, to have a name and to have a common existence. I did not choose that. I am referring to bloodlust. And only those who are weaker than their victims fall down that path. Your desire to kill in order to conquer only got you this far. You were all very useful at doing that, but the moment has come when we have to kill in order to keep. A mistake was made among our ranks but before I could punish the guilty we have to first make sure what we conquered is intact and safe."

"Lucius, please step forward."

Lucius took a step and bowed deeply.

"You and your son have disgraced me deeply so many times. We will depart for Russia in a short matter of time to offer our profound apologies to the Russian Ministry for interfering in their affairs. Your son and the other ones who took part in the raid will apologize and all the families of those involved will pay as much as the Russians want to in order to grant forgiveness."

"Yes, my lord."

"Antonin, Yaxley and Avery."

Three men in black cloaks took a step forward, repeating Lucius's motion.

"You and your departments will be staying here. I want two departments of brute force with me and other two to be ready for back up if needed. Guard the manor and the headquarters. On the next week I want extensive training of everybody ready to fight. We are going there to negotiate but if it is necessary brute force will be used. This meeting is officially over. You have one hour to pack your belonging and come here."

There was nothing more needed to be said as people started to dissaparate.

Yes, he was looking forward to meet _Caterina_ again.

The manor was not safe as they all thought.

The mind of the sociopath works in different ways and Bellatrix's made no exception.

Because it was not bloodlust that made her going.

No, her emotions were blinded by something much more complex than bloodlust. Bellatrix didn't need to hurt to feel good, she needed to kill. She needed to see bodies crumbled and mingled with each other, but most of all, she needed to feel the eyes of her victims. She needed to see their empty eyes and she needed to know that that emptiness was attributed to her.

And there was a pair of eyes that Bella would give anything to see empty, now.

Those were a pair of brown curious eyes that were currently reading some pages from a manuscript. Those eyes that had nothing special to them excepting the fact that they made the man of her life change.

Bellatrix always loved Tom Riddle. It was not obsession, it was love.

And as much as she loved him, she hated her.

Because Bellatrix took it for granted that the Dark Lord could not love and settled for admiration.

But when a mudblood came into the picture she was in Voldemort's eyes a emotions that could rival hers in intensity.

And for that to mudblood will pay.

_Not now, Bella. Soon. _

_Review at your liking._


	15. While he was gone

**A.N. Thanks for all the reviews, it was great to have positive feedback on my work. Writing really helps me a lot dealing with what's happening in my life now, so I guess updates will be often from now on. **

**P.S.: I swear I will correct the story as soon as I have some spare time. **

I was born normal. And sometimes, I still believe that I am normal. I believe that I am just a rock on the bottom of a river. The water flows by me, but it never moves me from my place. And sometimes I love to dwell in this loneliness that has become my only comfort.

I used to have Harry and Ron to stand by me and I was foolish enough to believe that they were always going to be somewhere in my near vicinity, but I was so wrong. As far as people knew, Hermione Granger was one to never be wrong. But what they really didn't know was that there were times when Hermione simply wanted to disappear.

Because you put your trust into people, and you are fairly certain that you are doing everything right. And one day, in one moment, those people cease to exist. They leave, they die and they cheat. People are never constant. If she were to make a parallel between people and math (as she often tended to do), the people were always the variables. You knew the setting, you knew the numbers and you knew how things should work. But as soon as a variable entered the equation everything changed its meaning.

Hermione was attached of many variables in her life: her parents - they gave her life. Harry Potter who stood by her, Ron Weasley and even Albus Dumbledore. But there comes a time when you need to simplify the equation and reduce the variables.

Math surely has a sense of humor, and life too.

Every time you want to solve something, there comes a moment when you are certain that you will give up. The moment when everything is messed up and you know you can't get it through. And so you begin to reduce, cut with sharp lines of a trembling pencil until there is a nothing left but a dark mark all over the page.

In order to produce you need to sacrifice.

When it came to Tom Riddle, he was one thought variable. He held so many answers and lifted so many questions that a normal mind would crumble in fear and give up.

When you are born you are presented with theories that are told to be true - truths that are never to be doubted. You know that 1+1=2, you know that the earth spins around the sun, you know that there is light and there is darkness. But what a foolish thing to do – to take anything for granted.

Tom Riddle was the solution to the equation that held Hermione's life. If you tried to replace him with any other number the equation made sense but it was never enough.

The answer to that equation was infinity.

Nothing is simple than the infinite, yet, no one can fully understand it.

Hermione was contemplating a tree that she could see outside her window. It was quite stupid from her part but she grew quite fond of that tree. It was an oak tree, probably as old as the manor itself since its crown reached high up in the sky. She never fully understood why magical trees lived longer than normal trees but she took it for a fact.

Another fact, and another fact and another fact. Life was about facts and how you perceived them.

Tom has been gone for a full day now and she hadn't heard anything for him. Usually, this didn't bother her at all but there was a nagging feeling at the back at her head that told her he was not safe.

On other circumstances she should be happy for him to get hurt but not something was different.

He felt hers.

He was on a certain level hers and Hermione Granger never let people to mess up with her stuff.

"You need to stop thinking so much" An elegantly looking Narcissa was interrupting her thoughts. Again.

"It helps me put things in order."

"Well, there's this much one can understand at a certain age, Hermione" The woman smiled as she took the seat next to the curly witch.

"Are you implying I am too young for this world, Mrs. Malfoy?" Hermione inquired, a smile playing at her lips.

"Not at all, dear. Only that Tom is much, much older than you and he lived through things that you cannot even imagine."

"He might be older and wiser but it feels different this time. There is something going on and it's big."

"I have the same feeling dear, only that I choose to ignore it. Dwelling on matters is not always necessarily a positive thing."

"I know," Hermione begun, her hands flying in the air "It's just that I cannot stand the feeling of staying here and doing absolutely nothing."

"You bloody Gryffindors. You always want to be in the middle of the actions, the hero of the day. A Slytherin would be more than happy to watch everything from the side and not getting involved."

"I'm not saying I have to do something. It's just frustrating to know something is happening somewhere, something important. I know they will fight, I saw it in Tom's eyes. There was a glimmer of excitement that I only see when he has a challenge ahead. And it's going to be difficult and I am positive that many lives will be lost due to some mistakes."

"And what would you want to do then? Fight, my dear?" Narcissa asked her, looking darn serious. The girl was really a spitfire.

"I cannot ask anyone in this house for the honor to fight. I am merely a mudblood standing here, in the middle of a pureblooded nest. I am not fitting in the picture no matter what angle you take it for. I am extremely content with the fact that I didn't die yet, or go through endless rows of Crucio. I guess I only want him to return safe."

"Do I smell some feelings there, Hermione?" Narcissa asked knowingly. That woman surely knew a lot about everybody.

"I'm only admitting them because you are here by my side, Narcissa. I've learned the hard way that it's not better to wear your heart on your sleeve. It's the only way to get by around here."

"It means I have taught you well. Did you get the chance to look at his research?" The blond woman inquired again.

"I am honored that you thought of me as a student, Narcissa. And yes, I took a look on them last night. But there was something wrong I couldn't point out last night. I know he left me those papers to keep me occupied while he was gone but they don't seem to make sense to me."

"Well, Riddle is riddle. You shouldn't give up on those papers yet. Maybe they hold something valuable."

Deciding to follow Narcissa's advice, Hermione gathered all the papers Riddle left her and started to read. There were theories and essays about magic, about the importance of the wand a wizard has, the core of the wand but most of them were about the elder wand.

There were graphics and drawings about the elder wand, theories of how it would work best and the importance of the fact the previous owner of it to be dead in order for someone to rightfully claim it.

After hours and hours of thoroughly researching the facts, Hermione dropped dead asleep on the old bureau, her petite body dominated by the large stacks of written paper surrounding her.

The morning caught her in an awkward position, surrounded by papers. He head was resting on her arms, which were barely visible through the stacks of manuscripts. As she opened her eyes, realization came to her.

Last night, her overly tired brain did not realize the connection between death and the elder wand. Of course the story said that the elder wand was created by death itself but the legends weren't always entirely true. No, death was important factor to be in possession of the elder wand but there was something more, and as far as she could see, it didn't look believable.

If the research was correct, that meant that an elder wand can be _made_, not inherited. But is this possible? If that was true, it meant that elder wands – or rather, wands that had the exact same qualities as the elder wand – could be made. The process was thorough and tiring and it required a lot of skill and determination:

_To be able to furnish a more powerful wand one must kill its original owner in a fair duel in order to retrieve their wand. The owner of the previous wand matters, as their qualities in dueling and spells will be on a certain level transferred to the second owner. _

_Once the wand was retrieved, the new owner must perform a number of spells (that will be immediately explained in detail in the graphic below) in order to modify the structure of the core. The core of the wand represents its heart, meaning that the structure is extremely sensitive to changes and can easily be destroyed. One must understand that the process of replacing and modifying the core of a wand requires a lot of skill and it may not be possible from the first tries._

The first tries? THE FIRST TRIES? As Hermione was reading became more and more enraged of the fact that the damn manuscript was telling her to kill in order to achieve something. Of course, the results would be remarkable. In theory it sounded great, and by the looks of it the owner of the manuscript (she had a fair suspicion that it could have been Riddle – already tried it. And several times.

Could she do that? None of the following spells were indeed complicated or unachievable. There were a few charms that required mastering and it was a work by hand. At the end of the process of replacing the cores, a potion should be made to be taken by the owner which would link him to the wand.

But that was never the problem. Academic study had never been challenging for her, since she realized that her memory was good enough to retain every important detail in her lecture.

The problem was the fact she was required to kill somebody.

But could she?

She felt the urge to kill before, but she realized that if she was to be put in the situation she couldn't have done it.

She killed, yes. But it was in a fight. She never killed for a sole purpose of hers. That fact alone was the only difference between her and the Death Eaters. They killed for pleasure, for blood, whilst she only killed for a solemn goal.

But wasn't knowledge the ultimate goal? Wasn't knowledge power?

Riddle said once that there is no light or dark, only power and the ones brave enough to use it.

Power shapes you in a different person, accentuates some of your traits, diminishing others. What would she become after she got all that power an elder wand could give her?

A wand made solely by herself, a wand which granted her the power of being near invincible. She could almost challenge Him to a duel but she doubted she'll ever win. She could restore peace in this world, her peace.

But was it right? What if her version of right was not right? What if what she believed to be pure and genuine wasn't pure and genuine?

If she tried to change the world back to the way it was, wasn't she becoming the new Riddle? The world wanted to be changed; otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have beaten Harry. The world had a mind and Hermione would respect that.

And all the answers were pointing to the same question: To kill or not to kill? But who should she kill?

She was there, on her own, surrounded by a pile of books, waiting for someone to give her the answers.

Only that the ones that usually provided her with the answers were dead or gone.

If you knew you cannot fail what would you do?

And he wasn't there.

He wasn't there!

"Still no word?" A worried looking Hermione entered the room of Lady Malfoy.

Narcissa, who was currently combing her hair looking into a huge vanity mirror felt the concern in the girl's voice.

"Not yet, my dear."

"It has been three days. We should at least know what is happening there."

Why so much concern?

Should I keep my life clean without him? Becomes he comes and he screws everything he touches. And every word he says and every word he does is so dirty that he could send people to hell just by touching them. And every time he speaks he makes the world a bad place and the world doesn't seem to mind.

But me… I'm not pure and I am not simple. But I do not know what to do. What am I to him? Am I just an instrument? Am I just a brief affair in which I got too caught? Am I just a part of a past? Should I risk everything to him? Should I risk my silence, my life, my peace for him? Is he worth it? Is there any piece of him that it's worth it?

Is it?

Cause every time I look at him or I think about him my heart starts beating rapidly and without sense. It's all without any sense. Because it has been so long since I first saw him but I believe that he still holds the same power over me. And my arms start to lose blood and my hearts beats so fast it's infuriating.

Sometimes I ask myself who am I loyal to. Well, first of all I am loyal to myself, but after that first egocentric level who am I fooling now? My loyalty lies with him. Every day and every night I fight against it, I try to do things just to defy him because I trick myself into thinking it feels good. But my subconscious strikes again and I find myself in the middle of a hurricane called Tom Riddle.

And he's gone.

Why does it feel so final? Since it's been only three days. Three DAYS. A lot of hours a and a whole lot of minutes. Why am I searching for him between my sheets in the morning? Is _this love_? Is this some wicked joke of life?

To fall in love with my greatest enemy?

Days went by. And they kept going, uninterrupted, like some awkward hourglass that is there to mock you.

Hermione was studying the manuscripts, as usual, trying to get around the idea of killing someone in order to produce a more powerful wand. Everything seemed in vain now, the instructions specifically required death in order to fabricate a new wand and the only way to get around it was to try it. She thought about disarming someone and then modifying their wand but it seemed impossible since a wand is related to the wizard from the moment it chooses him/her.

Narcissa, who seemed extremely calm at the beginning, finally cracked and started screaming at the house elves for sweet nothing. That was Hermione's cue to find out if she knew something. The probability was the she didn't but being a curious Gryffindor, she tried anyway.

"Narcissa?" The woman was having her tea on the parlor, as usually, but something was not quite right in her posture. She wasn't elegant yet relaxed as usual; there was stiffness in her back and her arms that suggested she was really tense.

The blonde woman slowly lifted her head from the cup of tea and looked at Hermione.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked.

"There is news." The blonde stated.

"Is there something wrong? What happened?" Hermione was ready to lose her temper too. Since the "boys" have been gone the manor wasn't quite the same. There were two full weeks in which Hermione almost missed Lucius's random ranting.

"They tried to negotiate but the Russians were too stiff. They did not start a fight yet but the spirits are not actually calm in there. Draco got into a minor fight and he is injured, he's on his way home now. They cannot apparate from there, they have to get approval first and the Dark Lord does not wish to have useless argument so they are following their rules. Draco and two others are on their way here, they are coming by broom."

"And… he? How is he?" Hermione asked, tentatively,

"He is doing fine. There are problems with the strategies and the negotiations. The Russians are tough people and they do not appreciate offenses like the ones the boys do. He's caught into planning; he won't be coming home anytime soon."

Hermione felt her heart in her throat when she heard the news. He was ok. That's all that matter. Although, on some level it disturbed her that he didn't give anyone a message for her. Yet she quickly regained her senses reminding herself that she was just a mudblood he occasionally fucked.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Narcissa?" Hermione answered.

"That is not all. If there will be war, there are a few chances for them to survive."

"What do you mean?"

"They don't have enough brute force. They had a strategy base in Russia but it was mainly for research. Tom's plans included some alliance with the Russians in order to conquer them but it was a long – term plan. It shouldn't have been set in motion for a few years now."

"Do you mean that if the Russians start a war they we will lose?"

"Yes, dear. I'm afraid it's the truth."

"Oh Merlin." Hermione was taken aback by the statement. Wasn't Voldemort supposed to be the greatest wizard of all time? Wasn't he supposed to know everything and kill everyone in his way? They needed backup, but somehow Hermione doubted that all the wizards in Great Britain couldn't take down the Russians. She counted on Tom's manipulative skills. If not, they were lost.

But what if?

Apologizing to Narcissa, she took the long road to her room and started to think.

She needed to do something, invent a spell, anything.

They needed more power, a powerful weapon or a person.

A person with more power, a witch or a wizard with extreme qualities to offer Tom more support in the battle, since he was the only one in that army that had the experience and the power to beat the Russians. The others were prepared, yes, but not on the same level and they certainly leaked the discipline and the tactic he had.

Arriving in her room, Hermione motioned for a shower when she noticed the stacked papers on her desk.

A powerful wand. Yes, another wand to be used in order to achieve transform people into secret weapons. It was their only choice.

But before she could make the wand for another people she needed to do it for herself. She needed to know if it worked.

The night caught Hermione walking around the dungeons of the manor, hoping she would get a prisoner wandering alone.

The walls were filled with dirt that every once in a while reflected some orange flickering from the torches attached to them.

Every other night Hermione would read or her mind would wander in different places. But tonight, she was there for a goal. To kill. She needed to kill in order to keep many others alive – that was the lie she told to herself when she dressed in a black cloak, leaving nothing but her face to be seen.

She asked herself if she was able to kill if he asked her to. The answer was no. His master plan implied her becoming a murderer on her own. That way she would never doubt her loyalty.

There was no need for games like that since Hermione knew what he planned. It was ingenious and evil, but somehow during the shower she agreed that she must do that. If not for Tom than for her country, for her community – even that meant those stuck up pureblooded brats.

Waiting in the shadows, caught in the line of her own thoughts, Hermione noticed someone was coming around the corner. With unsteady moves, she grabbed her wand tightly and waited for the right moment. Somewhere in her heart she knew the right moment will never come, but all she had left was faith.

A black cloak was approaching her fast when she understood that this is the decisive moment and if she was to do something she could at least do it now. So she did what she could do best. She stepped out of the shadows and pointed her wand at the man.

"State your name and your rank." She said, sounding more sure than she was.

"Alexander Jug, under the command of Avery, second rank in the Death Eaters. Wait, who you are. Aren't you…?

"Potter's mudblood, yes." The man was looking around mid thirty, with dark brown eyes and reckless brown hair. All in all, he had nothing special Hermione could see.

"Avery won't miss you. In for a duel, Jug?" The man looked taken aback a bit but he quickly got the wand out of his pocket and threw a curse at her.

"_Stupefy!" _He yelled, but the spell only hit a wall.

"_Impedimenta!" _Hermione yelled, but the man dodged the curse easily. He had some strength, she would give him that. His one big mistake was dwelling in his victory, a moment that Hermione took to throw a spell at him.

"_Incarcerous!" _She yelled, as invisible ropes surrounded his body, forcing him to face the ground.

Steadily, Hermione took two steps towards him, her wand pointed at his heart the whole time.

There, in that very moment, she saw herself facing the choice she thought she made a long time again. It all reduced to a simple statement – To kill or not to kill.

As shivers started going through her spine, her hand started trembling and her mind was on the verge of cracking. Then she was Tom's face, and Harry's, and everyone's who ever fought in the previous war. The ones who died to protect the light, the ones who believed in the dark and the ones who still lived. They were all just fighting for the same goal all that the time, yet they didn't realize that they were stronger together than apart.

And in that clear moment, a decision was made. Anger filled her body, the shivers disappeared and a new world was born.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

And there, on the ground, instead of an alive, healthy person, was a corpse.

There was little time Hermione could think before someone discovered her, so she quickly grabbed his wand and incinerated his body. Her moves were slow, calculated and would have scared anyone unlucky enough to witness the scene.

When there was absolutely no proof left of her "escapade" she quickly took the best road towards her room.

Once there, there was little time and lots of things to do.

The man's wand was elm with a dragon heartstring. Quite an unusual ordinary wand, yet it will become very valuable in the future.

As Hermione grabbed her ingredients (the she previously stole from the Malfoy private stack) she was beginning to feel the thrill of excitement. She was there, probably making history. Grabbing both wands, she settled on the table and started doing incision after incision in both wands, until she reached their cores.

Hours later, Hermione was asleep again on her desk, two wands on her side and a potion brewing silently. She was awoken by the gentle sun rays caressing her face and started looking around her.

There were 15 more minutes until the potion was ready and she would see if the last night was worth it. She would see if adding elements would actually make a wand more powerful, and exactly how powerful.

Fifteen minutes were more than enough to take a shower and she decided she had to. Never once did she see the wicked witch staring at her from outside her window.

After some healthy scrubbing and washing, Hermione got out of the shower in order to check on the potion. Only this time she wasn't alone in the room. A certain unexpected guest was expecting her lounging on a chair, looking curiously at what she was brewing.

"Bellatrix." The muggleborn stated.

Fear conquered her senses as she saw the woman looking carefully at the notes on the table. There was a certainty in Hermione's head that if Bella found out what she was doing things will not turn out well for her. All she had as to drink the potion and the wand she made was hers.

"Mudblood." Bella stated, her eyes looking positively crazy. There was an aura that surrounded the woman giving her that air of almost morbid nonchalance. There was no reason in her world, and those worlds are the most dangerous of them all.

"I've already beaten you once, I can do it again."

"You dare to defy me, mudblood?" Her words seemed to have the impact Hermione wanted for the woman lifted off the chair and started walking manically towards her.

"If you kill me Voldemort will be angry. He is already angry with you, maybe you could get away alive if you just LEFT this room now!"

"You dare to say his name, mudblood!" Bellatrix's eyes were looking positively insane in that moment. She was so focued on his target that Hermione doubted she'll notice something else. "It was all just a trap to get him away from here. Away from you, MUDBLOOD"

"You've set this entire thing up only to send him away? Are you INSANE, woman? You may have started a war!"

Bella seemed to need a moment to understand her words, when Hermione violently pushed her off, running for the cauldron with the potion. She had only one chance and that potion would better be working. Before Bellatrix even registered what happened, Hermione drank the potion and waves and waves of blue light took over the room.

"What have you done mudblood?" Lestrange yelled as she approached the younger witch. But she was not fast enough as Hermione grabbed her wand and yelled from the top of her heart:

"_STUPEFY!"_

A brutal force pushed Bella so hard into the wall that it broke. Pieces and pieces of cement were flying around the room as Bellatrix was lying unconscious on the ground, somewhere in the hall.

When Hermione threw the spell she felt the raw magic cursing through her veins, down to her wand, and then into Bella. If stunning spell was strong enough to put Bella to the ground, what could that wand do?

She did it.

She had a wand and a means to win this war.

She needed to tell Narcissa as quick as possible, but first things first. Levitating Bellatrix, Hermione came down the stairs only to find herself staring in the eyes of none other than Draco Malfoy.

_Review at your discretion._


	16. While he was gone II

**A.N.: I have received a lot of reviews blaming me for not keeping the character of Hermione like it is in the books. As you can see until now, Hermione is in a very dark place, but I believe that this is the beauty of the story. She isn't the do-gooder everyone thought she was, instead, she is changing. And Tom is changing too. There is no way to know if they will end up together or split their ways. There are feelings, of course, but they are not carved into stone. In order for my characters to evolve they need to go through some experiences to shape them up and that's what I intend to do. My intention is to make this story as real as possible, not a fairy tale. **

She needed to tell Narcissa as quick as possible, but first things first. Levitating Bellatrix, Hermione came down the stairs only to find herself staring in the eyes of none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Seems that the black sheep of the family finally decided to make an appearance. Hello, Draco" Hermione smiled, her grin spreading all over her face.

Malfoy took a few moments to register what was happening in front of him. There was a Hermione Granger, looking blossoming as usual – not that he would ever admit that he liked her on a certain level – holding a stunned Bellatrix in the air with only but her wand.

He didn't make the connection in that very moment but something was very wrong. Levitating charms were easy to cast, of course, but they required strength – moreover, physical strength – from the caster in order to levitate heavy objects – or in this case, Bella. Yet, Hermione showed no discomfort while carrying the old witch around like a dead puppy.

"Granger!" Draco stated his word rather an insult than a mere salute. "You've been busy, I see."

"Well, you know. Your auntie came to visit me and I _begged _her to stay over for the night." Hermione replied, her grin becoming even wider than before. "Are you a gentleman enough to point me towards the direction of your mother?"

"Careful, Granger. I might mistake you for the true owner of this house. Wipe that awful grim upon your face, it makes you look retarded. She's on the parlor."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione replied, irony literally floating in the air.

"Oi Granger!" Draco yelled as Hermione started walking towards the parlor, still levitating Bella.

"What, Draco?"

"Don't you want to know what he is doing?" Draco asked, smirking.

"Of course I do. But not now. I have more important things to take care of."

"Make sure Bella has a comfortable stay at our place, if you will." Draco added, a wicked smile on his face.

Not minding too much Draco's intrusion, Hermione headed towards the parlor. Narcissa stood there, stiff like a statue.

"I know that it's early, Narcissa, but I have a little present for you." Hermione smiled.

"What?" The older woman looked a bit taken aback by Hermione's intrusion but didn't quite understand what the girl was trying to tell her.

"Look up" Hemione pointed rather amused to the levitated Bellatrix she had been carrying around the manor for the past half an hour.

The moment Narcissa saw Bellatrix, Hermione understood that it wasn't really her call to punish the sociopath. Of course, Bella messed with her life, but most important than all, Bella messed with Narcissa's son. And we all know how protective the blonde is of her boys.

"You can have her." Hermione stated, looking positively amused by the perspective of Narcissa punishing her older sister.

"Thank you." Narcissa motioned to Hermione. "There is not much we can do to restrain her – she escaped from Azkaban, the manor would be a piece of cake for her." The blonde added.

"I may know a trick or two to hold her down, Narcissa."

Hermione reenervated her then muttered a biding spell and Bella fell to the ground, panting.

That night nobody in the manor could sleep because of Bella's screams that filled the domain. She cried and begged for her sister to stop. She started telling stories of when they were little children, about family and the importance of it. If someone would have heard her for the first time they would have thought that the witch was quite sane. They all knew better. The curious fact is that nobody bothered to put a silencing spell on their room. Everybody just stood and heard Bella's screams echoing in the manor. They found pleasure and somewhat comfort in them. It offered them the illusion that Tom was there, throwing his temper at anyone.

More curious is the fact that Bella never actually screamed her heart out while the dark lord was Crucio-ing her. They all knew better than to interfere with Narcissa's handiwork.

Power. Raw power in her blood flow, in her veins.

With every spell she cursed she understood better why Tom found it so addictive.

She was now the most powerful witch of her age, maybe in the world. She held a wand in her hand that offered her the possibility to bend the entire manor at her feet if she wanted to.

When you have so much power what do you do? When you know you could have and do anything in the world, what would you do? The path to destruction was there, and she was on it. She could feel with any spell she cast, no matter how unimportant it was that she was getting closer and closer to falling.

_One of the fallen minds. Nothing is sadder than a fallen mind._

She was never one to crave power but in the moment she felt it in her arms, her body and her mind she was disgusted by the ignorance in which she lived until now. And honestly, the only one who could even understand her was Tom.

She also understood now that Dumbledore was the wizard who chose not to have that power. He chose to be normal, to live a normal existence and a higher purpose than conquering the world. But once you have the world, what was there left for you?

The universe? One could not have the universe, it's impossible.

Honestly, she was scared. She was so scared she will lose her way in this beautiful yet seducing way of life. Her mind was already unstable – hence the problems she had. Should she risk it?

Is it all worth it?

How much of it all is it actually worth it?

She needed a sense of normality. She needed to understand what her options are. Should she give up power for the greater good? Should she give up that empowering feeling she had every time she cast a spell?

She knew that if she wasn't powerful enough Tom would never accept her as his equal. And she wasn't one of _those girls _who liked being submissive. No, she needed her life, she needed her independence and on some level she liked that people were afraid of her.

Now she understood why Tom was so intrigued by her. She was the only one that showed no fear in his presence – the most of the time, that is.

But now she was so scared. So scared of herself and what she could do. She was afraid that one day she will lose her temper and bring destruction upon everything. She was quite temperamental and many times she threw a temper at the people she loved. Harry and Ron were quite used to this, they accepted it and knew better than to fight with her when she was angry.

Now she was scared and she was alone. And there was no one there that could help her and give her advice. He was gone somewhere far away. She needed to understand how to control all that power.

At first she didn't understand the true powers of the wand and intended to make one for the most important Death Eaters. But now she understood that one would suffice. The power she gave herself almost equaled Voldemort's, it would be insane to grant this kind of power to anyone else. There would be war after war.

Deciding she needed something to take her mind off the power and its mischievous ways she grabbed "Hogwarts – A history" and started reading it for the 27-th time. That book almost comforted her.

But as she reached page 224 a note fell down from the book.

That little piece of parchment that intrigued her so much the first time she saw it.

"_Today us, tomorrow the world. I love you,_

_LV."_

She found this parchment after he first claimed her body. He was not gentle but she didn't mind it that time. She wanted it and she wanted him. It was not like the night in the balcony he forced himself upon her. No, he made her want it, he made her crave his presence inside her. There were some bruises the next day, but she didn't mind. Hermione started remembering his lips upon her, his smile when she gasped for air while he was stroking her back in a particular way. The mere touch of that simple piece of paper was a reminder of how it all started. She remembered that she climbed of the bed and held the parchment in his long, elegant writing in her hands for an hour or two.

She never quite understood it and found it ironical that Voldemort would write something like that. Sometimes she tried to understand what that parchment meant. She even tried to get it out of him more than on one occasion but he didn't tell her anything.

Maybe this time it would be different.

Taking her wand with great caution, as if it was a precious artifact, she cast a revealing charm. Slowly, the paper started enlarging growing until it was around 20 cm long.

The first words were still the same, but as it was growing new words started to appear on the page, leaving her dumb folded. Elegant letters and were intertwining composing something that looked like a letter.

Quickly, she started reading it.

_Today us, tomorrow the world. I love you,_

_In order to reveal the contents of this letter real power and determination is needed. If you are reading this it means that you found the determination to make the wand. You got over your fears and what you called morals and killed. Death is something that comes naturally, and the man you killed probably existed only for you to kill him. Have no doubt that it will have repercussions, but sacrifices must be made for the greater power._

_As I have told you many times before, there is no good or evil, only power and those brave enough to use it. You may have felt the raw magic while casting, but that is just the start. With power also comes sacrifice and soon you will understand the importance of choice._

_You are now put in a rather unwelcoming situation: to use the power you fabricated or to give it up. Now that is the choice that will define your future existence. If you are to use it, you should know that there are great prices to pay and they vary from one person to another. Everything you received now has an impact on any live person on this earth. It is not easy to control nor to use it. You need distractions in order not to explode and destroy everything around you. You need something to keep your mind on in order not to give in the temptation._

_I have first set my mind on hate. Hate is merely a feeling, strong enough to keep your power but too weak to make you keep your temper._

_But love? Love is the force that will never be completely understood. I never understood it and never did I want to. It was a foreign concept to me, the only thing I could never conquer. I could never see you as an equal while you were a mere mudblood. There was no power in you and therefore there was no reason I should waste my time with you._

_I wrote those words on the paper to make you wonder. Love – or mere attachment or commitment – is the only force powerful enough to overcome our power. You could have never understood why I needed you – you were the perfect distraction._

_The power you now have is the power you deserve. No one receives power if they are not worthy of it. You are my distraction from this would, and now, that we are almost equals, I could mark you as mine._

_This universe needs balance, and balance is not acquired by empty words. I am well aware of my power, but believe me or not, is not my intention to destroy this world._

_I may be playing god, Hermione, but you have to choose now to end it or to balance it._

_I lay my faith in your hands._

_And if you ever decide to fight me, I will fight back, no matter the consequences._

_I may not love you yet – I may never know what love is, but I need a distraction._

_And you are quite an exquisite distraction._

_LV._

That night Hermione couldn't sleep part from Bella's screams – part from those last words in Tom's letter. The curious fact was that he bothered to write that letter to her in the first place. What she read wasn't words of love – what they had going on was merely a deal to keep each other from falling under temptation.

But why did he feel the need to write her a letter in the first place?

Is it possible that he was looking for a suitable woman to share his power with? Not his love, his power. Never his love. Hermione knew Tom never shared something so she quickly dismissed the possibility. No, Tom needed her to save himself.

When she has that wand in her hand she has of taste of what it means to be strong indeed. But is she powerful enough to get a hold of that power?

At the end of the day everything was reduced at the same question: to kill or not to kill. To use it or not.

She just hoped she hope she wouldn't feel obliged to take that decision before she was ready.

With that, Hermione fell into a deep slumber.

"Draco?"

"Yes, Mother."

The son and the mother were sharing their usual cup of tea on the parlor, waiting for the other two people who came back with Draco to offer them some piece of information of what was happening in Russia.

"What happened there, Draco? Why did you come back injured?"

Draco knew his mother better than to try and lie to her. So, giving his options, he chose the truth.

"There were too many, mother. What's happening in there is outrageous and I am not talking about the mudbloods mixing with the purebloods. They are insane, mother. We thought Riddle was a possessive sociopath but you cannot talk to the Russians."

"Explain."

"We got there and Riddle immediately wanted to apologize for the facts and offered them a favor in order to forgive our mistake. They didn't take that lightly at all. They said they wanted the woman who caused that to kill her themselves. When the dark lord said he is the only one who can punish his followers the Russians snapped. They want Bellatrix dead, mother. And not just her. All of us."

"He sent you home, didn't he? He knew that if you were to be dead in a revel he lost all the support of the Malfoys, and even if he has our money he needs our connections."

"Yes. He sent me, Nott and Dolohov home. He said that we were too valuable to lose in such a battle."

"As crazy as it sounds, son, he's got a point. He needs educated people around him in order to achieve his goal. How were negotiations going before you left?"

"They won't be reaching an agreement anytime soon. Riddle is sure of himself but many of the Death Eaters are scared. Of course they won't be foolish enough to lose but they are scared and this is not a positive fact. I have never seen them so scared before, not even when fighting Potter or Dumbledore. With them we knew and could understand our enemy. The Russians are unpredictable and reckless. Riddle understands their way of thinking and is caught into planning and scheming all day long but they have to do something soon. The Russians are losing patience and Riddle too."

"I need to talk to Antonin. We need a backup plan to retrieve your father and the Dark Lord if something happens." Draco was staring weird at her mother. Of course he knew his mother had a backbone and he was proud of that but he never took her for the type that actually acted upon her plans. The war really brought up new sides of people.

"He'll be arriving here in a half an hour probably. Mother… What about Granger?"

"What about Hermione, Draco?"

"Why is she still here? Has Riddle taken such an interest in her that he cannot let the girl go? Or at least kill her? It would be merciful of him to kill her but if Riddle touches her she will break."

"Since when do you care about _mudbloods_, Draco?" Narcissa asked her son with a playful smirk on her lips.

"I may hate Granger but she has a beautiful mind. It would be a shame for it to be lost."

"Hermione is well taken care of, I can assure you. And she can take care of herself too. And about Voldemort – if he wants her he will have her. There is not much to do in that department, son. We can just hope they will not kill eachother."

"Nott has taken quite an interest in Hermione." Draco stated.

"Well, who wouldn't? Even you, the one who would never as much touch a mudblood were concerned about her. There is something about that girl. She has class, and when she entered a room she looks like she owns it."

"I know, I felt it too today. But there was something else about her, mother. There was a power that surrounded her. The moment I passed by her I felt Riddle was in the room. It's like her magical signature has changed. Did something happen while I was gone?"

"I cannot answer to that Draco. We've got to get out of this mess in order to think about such trivial matters as Tom and Hermione. Please, do keep Nott away from Hermione. I wouldn't want him dead anytime soon and it would sure infuriate the Dark Lord. I feel he has something planned for Theodore only."

"Very well, mother." Draco took a moment to think when Missy apparated to the room and announced the two men arrived earlier.

"Invite them here, Missy." Narcissa motioned.

A few minutes later a tired looking Dolohov and a handsome not entered the parlor.

"Hello, Narcissa"

"Antonin, Nott." Narcissa greeted, being the perfect host anyone knew she was. "Please, take a seat. Missy", Narcissa called. "Call Hermione."

Narcissa knew that calling Hermione wasn't exactly the best idea from her part – Hermione and Theodore in the same room never made a good pair – but she knew the curly girl would never forgive her if she didn't hear the news.

After a few brief moments a smartly dressed Hermione entered the room, greeting the man and taking a seat by Narcissa. The truth was – nobody in the room ever dared to question Hermione and her presence. They already knew the girl played an important part in the dark lord's interest and it would be foolish to cross her – much less now that she had a wand and the blood of Bella on her hand.

"Draco has explained me a bit everything that happened there, Antonin, but I would like to hear it from you too."

"Very well. There is no time for pleasantries. We have a little time and not enough brute force. A war will most likely begin since the Russians have been completely oblivious at anything the Dark Lord offered them. We need a weapon and we need it fast."

"But how can we get a weapon on such short notice, Dolohov?" Nott added, his face a little strained. He was still handsome but he missed that careless feeling he had upon him months ago.

"There is absolutely no strategy to beat those Russians. We are outnumbered by far. No matter how clever we are or how powerful our spells are we still cannot beat them. If the dark lord uses his whole power – with the risk of him becoming injured – there would still be a lot of soldiers left. Out mere army was powerful enough to face Dumbledore and the Order but it's not capable to beat a country like that."

"There must be a solution, Antonin."

They continued bickering like that for an entire hour, throwing the guilt at one another. Hermione, who had been silent on her chair this whole time, finally lifted her look from the ground and pointed it towards the people bickering.

"Enough.!" The word wasn't loud and it wasn't rude. It was an order. And as soon Hermione spoke, they all got quiet.

"Take me to see Riddle." Hermione stated. "We're leaving tomorrow morning."

They weren't sure what to say. Hermione left them speechless. Antonin's first words that popped into his mind were "Yes, my lady." And that's what he said.

"Yes, milady."

The weather in Russia was cold. The English believed that they had a tricky weather but there was always cold in Russia.

Tom set the Death Eater camp somewhere outside a muggle village since the Russians never suspected they would do so. The Russians believed that their prejudices were just obstacles in the way of conquering the world. And maybe they were.

But if a war had started with both muggle and wizard weapons nobody would ever survive. Sometimes Hermione believed it was best for the two worlds to stay separated.

Hermione, Antonin and Draco flew to apparated somewhere in Romania, flying from there to Russia. With each mile the weather was becoming colder and colder, and even if they were all wearing gloves the cold was still piercing their clothes to reach their skin.

Hermione was never fond of flying nor will she ever be. In fact, she hater highs and was always afraid of falling due to her mother's words when she was a child. Her mother was also afraid of highs and the woman always needed to remind Hermione the dangers of high places. So, the little child took it for granted and developed the fear on her own. Yet, in this situation, she knew she had absolutely no other choice but to fly.

They had been flying for more than four hours now, she riding on the same broom as Dolohov – as a safety measure that she herself required. Slowly, Dolohov started to slow down, and Draco did too. There, through the clouds she could spot a flicker of light, small enough to resemble a candle. But she knew better as they started to drift towards the land.

The place looked deserted, but as they were lowering to the ground Hermione felt the Tom's wards surrounding the place. Yes, they reached him. She could sense his presence in that place. The camp started to gain shape as huge, black tents were placed in a perfect order on the ground. There wasn't snow as she expected, instead, the ground looked almost frozen. There was nothing else except some small grass made of shades of brown, and the air you were trying to breathe brought pain to your lungs. Her wild mane of hair was frozen at the ends, and she saw that Dolohov and Draco weren't far either.

On the each side of a tent there were at least five death eaters surrounding it, probably guarding the place. All in all, it looked as a perfectly organized muggle military camp.

They landed very soon, and Hermione took a few moments to take in the surroundings. It was different than she expected – she thought there would be screaming and disaster but instead a deadly silence floated in the air. She finally realized that the Death Eaters were indeed scared. There wasn't the usual chatter but a sense of sobriety.

As they got off the brooms Antonin greeted Lucius who saw them heading towards the camp while they were flying.

"Old friend. Son. I didn't expect you anytime soon here." He said. The blonde man looked as elegant as usually but he wore an aura of stress around him.

"We've brought Miss Granger." Dolohov explained.

Hermione, who was staring at the tents, was interrupted by someone saying her name. She saw Lucius hugging Draco – which was odd since the old bad rarely showed any sign of affection towards family.

"Miss Granger." Lucius saluted.

Slowly, she turned to face him but she didn't find the look of disgust he usually had reserved only for her. She found herself staring in the eyes of a respectful man.

"Hello, Lucius." She replied to his salute. "Please, do lead the way towards your lord."

He didn't know why, but Lucius wasn't disturbed by her using his first name. There was something different; she had changed while they were gone. She was now as intimidating as his lord, and that said something.

"Immediately. But you should know he's not in a good temper."

"Let me take care of that. Lead the way." Hermione concluded.

Lucius started walking an elaborate path, making their way towards a tent like any of the others.

"Will you go in alone?"

"Yes."

Tom was leaning over his desk, surrounded by files and stacks of paper. There were rulers and broken pencils all around him but he didn't seem to care. There was absolutely no way for them to beat the Russians – they fought a lost battle. He needed to convince them to abandon the attack otherwise they would shatter his country to pieces.

His thinking was interrupted by someone entering the tent. He dismissed the thought rapidly and went back to planning. It was probably one of the Death Eaters bringing him something to eat or another stupid suggestion.

Not once in a million years did he expect the creature who haunted his dreams to stand there, proudly, in front of him.

"Missed me?"

Hermione. Sweet beautiful Hermione. The reason why he could hold it together for so long. When he started that war against Potter the power he held was too great for him to control. There were less and less ways he could control his anger and his tempers. He started getting reckless, not caring about the outcome of his actions.

But as he got his hands onto her, she became the perfect distraction from the power. He didn't feel the need to kill in order to satisfy his thirst for blood. An hour with her and everything was back to normal again. Everything was bearable.

And she came to him – even if he left her at home knowing that it would mortify the hell out of her. Sometimes he believed that it was for his own safety, sometimes he tricked himself into thinking he didn't want her around. But none of the reasons were true. Hermione was that perfect distraction from everything that has been going on.

She stood there, proud as ever, her dark cloak surrounding her petite body. He could smell her scent and took a minute to look into her eyes. Too tired to notice anything else – her mere presence was enough for him - he started walking steady steps towards her.

Only when he closed his mouth over hers did he feel the rush of power coming out of her body.

"You did it, didn't you?"

Her brown orbs were now pouring into his while her mouth curled into a smile.

"Who, me?" She asked him innocently.

But he didn't have and didn't want the time to talk about power now. No, he needed her; he needed to be inside her.

So even before she finished her last word an avalanche of open-mouthed kisses was launched upon her. And there was nothing gentle about them – they were urgent and rushed, and his life depended on them.

_Review at your liking._


	17. I won't break down and I won't walk away

**A.N.: First of all, thank you for all the reviews. It helps the story a lot to know what your opinions are about the events presented. Secondly, I wish to make myself clear: no matter how many reviews I receive putting me down for making Hermione what she is, the story won't change. Hermione is constantly evolving and changing, and you cannot judge one story based on one chapter. I like this Hermione a lot though, because she has a backbone and it's her own decision if she will turn evil or not. Never take things for granted and never try to predict where this story is heading to because you will most likely be wrong.**

**All I wish for my readers is to enjoy the story and try to get the characters as they are. Nothing is carved into stone here, they can change, love, cheat and even hate. **

**So please, stop judging and just enjoy the story.**

But what are we after all, love?

We are nothing but pieces of meat. We're nothing but bodies filled with unknown entities – that some call soul – that come on this earth in order to learn.

Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle. Everybody talks about Tom-fucking-Riddle.

What's so great about him? That he took risks?

He murdered thousands with cold blood and now he is on his way killing Hermione's spirit. Because no matter how innocent and pure you are, once you are in his company you are so easily seduced by his power. He glows, he makes your worlds swirl and your body want for more. Hermione was surprise that there wasn't an army of women waiting for him to be available. There is always Bellatrix, of course, but she doesn't count as an army.

Later, Hermione reasoned that once he slept with them he killed them. Yes, that should be the answer. She needed to be certain, though, and set her mind to ask him when the first opportunity arrived.

_"You did it, didn't you?"_

_Her brown orbs were now pouring into his while her mouth curled into a smile._

_"Who, me?" She asked him innocently._

_But he didn't have and didn't want the time to talk about power now. No, he needed her; he needed to be inside her._

_So even before she finished her last word an avalanche of open-mouthed kisses was launched upon her. And there was nothing gentle about them – they were urgent and rushed, and his life depended on them._

He felt her scent even before she entered the room but he couldn't quite place it. He knew there was another presence in the room – a powerful one – but he didn't recognize the magic signature.

Yet, when his eyes met hers, a whole new world was born for Tom Riddle.

She was glowing, as usual, her hair a wild mass of curls but it somehow fit her. Her hair was like her personality – wild yet organized. Her eyes held the same curious gaze but her aura was somehow different. He didn't quite place it, but as soon as he laid his hand on her cheek he felt it – that power, that never ending power that came from her. She was just like a source of heat, slowly melting everything around her. If you stood to close, you got burnt.

For the first time in his life, Tom Riddle didn't want power. He was not jealous and he didn't feel the need to take it all away from her.

In that moment he understood that he had an equal, someone whom he could share everything with.

Yet, there was not time for that. There were other matters that needed a more urgent attendance than power.

Again, for the first time in Tom's life, power fell on the second place. He first needed to touch her, feel her.

Without further ado, he launched upon her, his hands feeling every part of her body while his tongue explored her mouth. It was a desperate gesture, he knew that. Yet, he didn't care.

Non Verbally, he reinforced the warming charm upon the tent while his hands started working on unbuttoning her cloak.

She responded, as always. Yet, he could feel reluctance in her gestures, like she was afraid. Make no mistake, she wasn't asking like a scared virgin – although he quite enjoyed their first night together, her uneven and sloppy movements against his skin. She was afraid he will hurt her but what she didn't know is that wasn't the case anymore. She wasn't touching him or exploring his body with her hands – something that he forbade her to do a long time a god. Despite that Tom Riddle didn't want or liked to be touched, he found himself craving her hands on his body.

"How many?" Hermione asked, between his kisses.

"Excuse me?" he asked, perplex.

"How many did you sleep before me?" She asked, this time more specific.

"Not as many as you would think." He answered her, still not understanding where his question came from.

"I talk in numbers, not metaphors." She replied, her eyes suddenly filled with a hardness he didn't recognize.

"What's with the sudden curiosity?" His hands were cupping her face, trying to make her respond to his kisses. Yet, she remained perfectly still, despite his attentions.

"I know what this power means, Tom. I know what you mean now, I understand. Before I offer myself to you completely, I need to know how many tried before." She said, her face too serious for his liking.

"The women I slept with are not the same with the women who tried to be with me. Not many survived, nor did I want them to. I never felt attachment towards any other female until I met you."

"Attachment?"

"Yes, Hermione. Attachment. I do not know the meaning of love or compassion. You should have know this by now."

"I thought I knew you and understood you until now. But now I have the power, Tom. I have a power that can move mountains if I want to and it consumes me from the inside out. Only now I can truly understand you and the way you've been acting." She continued.

"Twenty one." He stated.

Hermione looked taken aback for a few seconds, she never expected him to give him such an accurate answer.

"Many of them were only bed-warmers that I used once. There were of course a few exceptions but they had no idea what they were in for. They aren't all dead but I can assure you they represent nothing."

"Very good." Hermione acknowledged. "I want you… No, I need you to let me do as I see fit. I need to act on my own. I cannot be your toy or submissive."

"I never asked for a submissive. Otherwise, I wouldn't have left you alive after all the stunts you pulled." He smirked.

"I need to know… Why? Why did you give me your research? Why did you take that chance?"

"I wanted to know if it's possible for me to ever see you as an equal. I needed to know if you could face me at my worst. If I would have ever taken you for granted as you were before, you would have ended up dead – it was only a matter of time. I needed you to survive me; I only gave you the instrument for survival."

"So you wanted me to equal you. You need me to fight you, you want to make my life a living hell, yet you want me to be powerful enough to endure it." Hermione concluded, her features washed by a way of sadness.

"I need you to be powerful enough to stand by me." Tom added quickly, his temper rising.

"What if I won't, Tom? What if I couldn't stand the idea of a life with you? What if I told you I can't survive it, Tom?" Hermione was now on the verge of tears, her hands on his chest, begging for him for an answer. She was looking him deep in the eyes, hoping for some kind of gesture that her innocence wasn't lost for nothing.

"I gave up everything for you, Tom. Actually, no, I didn't give it up. You TOOK it from me. My innocence, my mind, my free will. And what's in it for me? It isn't like I gave them ALL up for the greater good. There isn't a greater good because you won that fucking war. WHAT did you give up? WHAT?"

Tears were streaming down her face, and for the first time in years, she couldn't control it. She had absolutely no intention of wiping them – after all, they were just droplets of salty water coming out of her body. No amount of tears could ever get her out of the mess she was in.

As she closed her eyes, she felt thumbs brushing them off her cheek, caressing her with a tenderness she didn't know he ever had.

"I never gave up anything for you, but I would."

It was a calm, calculated statement. Hermione could feel the seriousness in his voice.

"What? What would you ever give up for me? A country?" she started laughing hysterically, tears still flowing down her face uncontrollably. "Or a kill?" Her laughter continued gained a high pitch, her voice trembling. "Would you give up killing a person for me?"

"No, Hermione." Sweet, velvety vocals came from his voice. "Power. I would give it all up for you."

That statement snapped her out from her pitying session. She didn't completely understand what he was saying yet those words sounded foreign coming from his mouth. Feeling her confusion, he added.

"I would give up _this entire charade_ for you, if you just accepted once and for all to be with me, Hermione."

"What charade? Are you referring to conquering the world or to all the lives that you've sacrificed for your idiotic goal, Riddle?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling. Yes, she knew this will make him mad but now was to the case to be afraid.

"I could never give up that! I've worked too hard, I've sacrificed too much. If I give up now all those lives would be lost forever. " He responded throwing his hands up in the air. He was mad, she could feel it.

"What are you trying to say? That you cannot give up because you went too far? That your freaking bloodlust is much more powerful than anything else in this world?"

"It's not more powerful than you! Don't you see, Hermione! You are the only thing stronger than my desire to kill. You are the only one that can stop me."

"So that was your plan all along, Riddle, you made me a shield for you to kick every time you need?"

"We are all sent on this earth with a certain goal, Granger. Like it or not. I was sent to change this world – I am certain of that. You were sent to stop me. You can either try to kill me and start another war, with more lives lost or you could stand by me."

She took a moment to recollect from all he said.

Until now, Hermione thought that all her life was about defending the light, trying to bring the best out of everyone. Never did she think she was sent here in order to defend him, the dark.

How can you love someone and hate him at the same time?

How can you love the same person that killed everything and everyone from you last life?

Because this is what Hogwarts seemed to her now: a long, lost life.

Can she do it? Can she protect him of himself? Can she be she shield he needed? Can she be the shield this world needed more than anything?

Carefully, she approached him until their noses almost touched, and for a second she forget what she was about to tell. His scent was so damn intoxicating, his eyes were so dark and his lips were begging her to touch them.

But as she was getting nearer, she realized what she is supposed to do.

There, somewhere in Russia, where the temperature was colder than his heart and the tension was higher than mount Himalaya, the fate of the world was decided.

"I'll stand by you, but first we need to get out of this mess with the Russians. Bellatrix is home, I caught her. Do not worry, she is under some biding charms I doubt she could ever break. Narcissa had her evil way with her but she is still alive."

The thought of Narcissa torturing Bella to death brought a glimmer of pride in his eyes. He never doubted the woman was fierce, but she proved it now.

"We need to get out of this mess, and we'll sort everything out later." She continued. "You need sleep, you look like you haven't slept for days and I cannot handle you when you are tired or under stress. Sleep tonight, I'll look over your research and we'll talk tomorrow morning." She concluded, amazed by the strength in her own voice.

Tom Riddle was never one to take orders from anyone, much less woman. But in that very moment, he felt he kind of liked it. Amused by her courage – she really took her role of a "shield" very seriously – he had nothing to do but to follow her orders. Wandlessly conjuring a bed, he reinforced the warming charm and changed his clothes into something more comfortable.

Hermione looked oblivious of what he was doing, already starting reading and taking notes. Smiling to himself, Riddle got into the bed, dimming the lights a bit.

"Won't you join me?" He asked, really wanting to feel her warm body tonight.

She looked unhappy with his interruption and dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

"Not tonight. Sleep!" She said.

And he did what he was told.

Sometimes, your mistakes from the past keep you from moving forward. Sometimes, the same mistakes keep you from starting new relationships – new connections that would help you so much in these times. And even if you want it so much, there is nothing you can do.

Narcissa went for a day of shopping on Diagon Alley to keep her mind busy off her son and husband. She could not do much at the manor, she figured, and since their vault at Gringotts was full enough for two lifetimes, a little bit of shopping was in order.

Later that day, she was supposed to meet the wives of the other Death Eaters who went on the mission in order to give them the bad news. So, deciding she didn't want any company, she was slowly walking on the street, gazing at the people who were passing by her.

Even if she was a socialite and everybody knew her, somehow Diagon Alley always offered her a bit of anonymity – and that bit she craved right now.

Lost in her thoughts, she failed see the man who was intensely gazing at her, and now started following her on the street.

A hand grabbed her arm and turned her around with a force she recalled from somewhere.

"Narcissa?"

"Evan…" Narcissa responder, her voice trembling slightly. Also, there was a bit of regret, but that bit only Evan could see.

A man with a dark green cloak was looking as charming as Narcissa recalled.

Evan Rosier, with his amber eyes and wavy chestnut hair was looking the blond woman straight in her eyes, searching for something that was lost a long time ago.

"You cannot be seen here, Evan. Let's go somewhere more private. The Leaky Cauldron?"

The man nodded slightly, apparating them both to the bar. The bar was dark, even in the afternoon. The sunrays were avoiding this place, as well as people sometimes. The air was dirty, only a slight scent of alcohol could be sensed between the dust particles that were flying everywhere in the room. After choosing the less exposed table, they both took a seat, followed by a few moments of silence.

"You cannot be seen here …" The blonde woman started the conversation, that tone of regret still in her voice.

"I know. But I couldn't resist you, as ever." He responded, smiling slightly.

Narcissa's smiled too, although sadness washed over her beautiful features.

"I know that you're in trouble." He continued. "I haven't seen such tension in the ranks since the First Wizarding War. Are you… well, Narcissa?" He asked, taking her hand subtly in his.

When Narcissa felt the skin of his hand, she closed her eyes for a minute, trying to memorize the feeling.

"I never underestimated you, Rosier. I knew you could never leave without looking back."

"You knew why I left, in the first place."

"You cannot put all the blame on me, Evan. It was your choice, I never asked you to fake your death and defy Voldemort for a mere girl like me…"

"You were never "just" a girl, Narcissa, you were the girl…" As if burnt, she quickly retrieved her hand and started playing with her wedding ring mindlessly."

"I wasn't strong enough. I chose Lucius – I never knew that I would meet you afterwards. He seemed the good choice at that moment. He was rich, wealthy, and sometimes he woke some feelings inside me."

"Not the same feelings that I woke up, that's obvious." Even added, quite frustrated by her statement.

"I loved you, Evan. I still regret every single moment that I spent with Lucius and not with you. You were the only one who could keep up with me at times, but it was not meant to be. We were not meant to be"

"I always thought you gave up to easily."

"I didn't give up. I just chose what was better for me."

"But what about me?" The man asked. Even though time has passed, it didn't heal anything.

"You were never one of my top priorities, Evan." Narcissa concluded, motioning to sit up and leave. Rosier's face darkened slightly, angry at her gestures.

"Don't leave…" He grabbed her hand, trying to stop her. Unfortunately for him, it was too late. She was already grabbing her cloak and was making her way towards the exist.

"You came here because you knew Lucius was out of town. We can never be, Rosier! There are much more important things in this life than _true love _as they call it. You got your wicked ways with me one time, but it won't happen again. I hope you are sane enough to understand that if you approach me again there will be consequences. And don't mistake my generosity of spending time with you for love. What I felt for you was love, indeed, but it was a long time ago. Choices had to be made and you were coward enough to fake your own death than to fight Lucius for me."

"Cissy,…" He added, trying to interrupt the speech that looked so carefully prepared.

"Enough I said." And with that, she apparated away to the manor.

With Hermione gone, she had the entire manor to herself, and all the time in the world to weep. For Evan, for Lucius, for Draco, and for her lost love.

She loved Lucius – but in her own way. It wasn't that love that consumed you and controlled you, and on some levels she was quite happy for that. No, she loved Lucius in a maternal way, that sometimes she even felt like a traitor for letting him touch her and have sex.

But Evan was a different story. Evan Rosier and Lucius Malfoy were best friends a long time ago, when they had barely finished school and they still had the courage to be naïve. They were young and restless, and someday Lucius presented Narcissa to the entire pureblooded society as his soon to be wife.

Narcissa, who had never had a boyfriend – or at least a male connection – before Lucius, mistook affection for love. That was until she met Evan, the man who haunted her dreams for so many years. She knew, deep inside, that it would have never worked. Evan never offered her the same feeling of safety she felt around Lucius. He would have never given her a home, wealth and a son. Moreover, their love story would have ended with a broken-hearted Narcissa and him in the arms of another woman.

But what you can have will always haunt you, and from the moment Evan saw Narcissa will never give up Lucius, he started fighting for her. It was never enough, though, since he was never man enough to admit he wanted her and she was too scared to run away.

In the night that everything was over, he came at her window and told her not to be sad, because he will be well and alive. He kissed her for the last time as tears were falling down on both their cheeks and told her he will always watch over her.

Little did Narcissa know that those words will haunt her existence.

Morning caught Hermione sleeping at his desk, as it did many times before. She never understood how and when she felt asleep but it was damn uncomfortable position. Lifting her head up a bit, she felt a breeze of cold air washing over her body and she immediately recalled where she was.

There, on a bed, in front of her, stood an asleep Riddle shivering slightly. She really needed to reinforce those warming charms – they were fading every a few hours. Grabbing her wand, she quickly resolved the problem of the heat and started wandering what the time was. With utter disgust she saw that it was only 6 o'clock in the morning, meaning that she only slept for two full hours.

Suddenly, the place near Tom was becoming more and more appealing to her and her tired body. Changing her robes into some suitable pajamas, she gently lifted the covers over Tom and tugged herself underneath.

She was met by his scent and the feeling of a comfortable warm bed. He smelled like sleep and peace, and soon she found herself drifting in that world.

It was 10AM when the Death Eater camp was disturbed by the sound of an army approaching them.

Lucius, Dolohov and Avery were immediately alerted and they stepped forward to see who was disturbing their silence. Not they appreciated that silence too much, but morning was the only part of the day that wasn't entirely based on fear.

The three men stood in their black cloaks looking at the horizon. There was nothing to be seen for a few moments until a red spot appeared, followed by many others. Lucius immediately recognized them – the Russians. As soon as they arrived on the other side of the wards, a middle-aged woman got off her broom and lowered her hood.

The three men were taken aback by her beauty as long, blonde hair descended on her shoulders till it reached her middle waist. Her eyes were the purest of blue while her face was carrying the noblest of the features.

"I would like to speak to Lord Voldemort." The woman stated clearly, her voice strong and imposing.

"Forgive my impertinence, dear lady," Lucius begun "but may I ask who is looking for him?"

"You must be Lucius Malfoy." The woman stated, her beautiful face holding the evilest of smirks. "I have heard a lot about you, Malfoy. Too bad your allegiance stays with England not with the most powerful country in the world." She finished.

Lucius looked taken aback for a moment – he never expected the woman to answer him, much less to address him. Until now, all the meetings and negotiations were held by blonde rough wizards, who held no class in their demeanor or actions. This was a new dimension entirely, since this woman was well informed and powerful too.

"Pardon me for my input, dear lady, but I still do not know who I am talking to." He continued with the same politeness than before.

"Tell your Lord that Caterina Varninski is waiting for him at the Kremlin two hours time. He may bring two companions to help him with the negotiations. Since we didn't reach an agreement until now our country is slowly losing patience and wants all to end today. The wards will be lowered in order for him to apparate."

"Very well, dear lady." Lucius concluded.

The woman did not respond his salute, but merely got on her broom and motioned for her companions to do the same. In a matter of minutes they were no longer to be seen, and that was when the real panic begun.

"Who exactly is Caterina, Tom?" Hermione was pacing the floor nervously. A half an hour ago Lucius entered their tent announcing them that a certain Caterina came to the camp and wanted to see Tom at the Kremlin. Ever since Tom heard that name he was wearing an evil smirk on his face and he was in a terrible mood. He wasn't doing anything to hurt anybody – mind you, he didn't even Crucio a single person – but that smirk he was wearing was scaring the crap out of everybody.

"Caterina and I have a history together, Hermione." He started, that smirk still in place.

"Care to share?" Hermione asked ironically.

"There's isn't a lot to tell, dear. Let's just say she couldn't put her paws on me and mark me." He continued.

"Care to be more explicit?" Hermione tried again.

All this bickering and short answers weren't doing anything good to his temper, but Hermione had to know. Was he seeing other women? Was she supposed to be one of the women he shared his bed with?

"No Hermione, I am not sleeping with other women." He responded her thoughts. "And for Merlin's sake, put up your occulmancy walls, you always forget to put them when you wake up." He continued, his smirk transforming into a smile for only two mere seconds.

Doing as she was told, Hermione kept her interrogation:

"And who is she, anyway?" She was quickly beginning to lose her temper and that didn't happen very often – ok, it happens quite often when Tom is around but he is the one to be blamed for that.

"She _loved _me, Hermione. We trained for a long time together when we were young, and she fell in _love _with me. Needless to say, I never reciprocated her feelings and nothing is more dangerous than an enraged woman. She never had high goals, even though she was extremely powerful. She wanted to serve, not to be served. Still, she didn't want to serve me, she wanted to own me. I would most gladly have her in my ranks but she refused. So she was left with a broken heart and a wish for revenge."

"But why is she here now?" Hermione asked, wanting to understand the problem's roots.

"She probably found out that I have problems with the Russians and offered her help to them. You see, now she gets the chance to get revenge for all those times I rejected her. She wants to see me suffer, Hermione, but she will never expect what I have to bring her down."

"And what is that?"

"You." Tom answered, that playful yet wicked smirk still on his face.

_Review at your liking._


	18. A taste of baroque

**A.N. Well, another one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. **

**P.S: There's a lemon on the way. **

My feet. I cannot feel my feet. And my hands also.

All the blood was drained from my extremities.

_10 minutes earlier._

When I entered in that crowded room, side by side with Tom, I expected anything but that.

The first thing I observed was the height of the room – it was unusually high, with long, blood red velvet curtains hanging heavily until they reached the floor. The floor was granite, extremely well polished with absolutely no shade of dirt on it. Then there was a huge dark wooden table where about 20 persons were talking animatedly. Mostly of them were men, but there were a few women too.

When they acknowledged our presence the chatter immediately stopped and they all solemnly lifted up their chairs greeting us with a brief nod.

There were only four of us: Tom, who was standing in the middle, followed by me on his right and Dolohov at his left. Lucius was there too, due to his insistences. Tom was reluctant at first to bring him with us but afterwards he granted him the permission to accompany us.

Lucius was a coward – we all knew that, so Dolohov and I peeked at him once in a while wondering what his plan was. Unfortunately, his face was only showing the fact that he was impressed with all the luxury we landed into.

As for myself, I could only say that all those wild baroque decorations were overwhelming, nearly breathtaking. The place had something that reminded me of Hogwarts, it leaked magical power but the luxury and the gold were merely distractions of what was going to happen there soon.

I quickly scanned the room for any familiar faces – I have always been interested in politics and tried to recognize any of the people present in that room. I spotted the Russian ministry of magic, accompanied by his two secretaries. There was also present the ministry of defense and many other heads of magical departments.

On the left, there were three chairs occupied by some old men, which I presumed to be the Russian's advisors. They were organized, neat, and extremely welcoming. My eyes quickly resumed their scanning to the right, where I saw her.

A beautiful lady with golden hair and a perfect face. She was elegant, her head held high, and despite her age, there were few signs to show her real age. She wore some golden rimmed glasses that she immediately took of the moment we entered the room. Still, there was stiffness in back and a roughness on her face that I could not place.

As her eyes landed on me, she immediately observed that I was gazing at her. Our eyes locked, and for one moment, I could swear I could see jealousy, hatred and anger all mixed up on her beautiful face. To say she was intimating was an understatement, she seemed to dominate all those older men in the room, her own person being the center of interest.

_The present._

I tried my best to hold her gaze, to look unimpressed but I soon started to feel the pressure that was building in my mind. She was trying to enter via Legillimency, a very brave gesture to do in such circumstances. But she knew I wouldn't tell anything, I was too interested in getting my country out of this in one piece than messing with an old lady.

Slowly, a sly smile started forming on her perfect ruby red lips and the pressure started to grow. My occulmency walls were of course strong, I could almost withstand Tom now, but the woman knew how to put up a fight.

With the corner of my eye, Tom finished with the greetings and shaking hands with all the members in the room. My head was still held high, there was no sign of pain on my face, yet, and I knew that if she kept attacking me at that force I would make a gesture to render me uncomfortable.

So, instead of moving one muscle, I concentrating in rejecting her attack, but there was little I could do in a room full of people without getting noticed or causing a scene.

I could not move. The blood was draining from my limbs, I felt them getting colder. She wasn't much better either; I understood when she slowly shifted her position on the chair, although it looked like a mere normal gesture.

The pressure kept building, and I knew that if I won't fight back soon, she would be able to see inside my mind. Slowly, tentatively, I searched Tom's hand with mine, gently touching it. That seemed to distract him from what he was doing, directing the conversation towards Dolohov, casually approaching me afterwards.

I felt his breath near me, the heat of his body and when I deemed he was close enough, I whispered:

"If she doesn't stop soon, there would be a scene."

I felt him nodding, leaving my side and heading towards her with a dazzling smile.

"Caterina." He whispered. Her head snapped towards him, meeting his smile with one of hers.

"Riddle." She stated.

And that was all I could hear, because the pain suddenly stopped, and I took a big breath of air, filling my lungs for what seemed a long time.

I took a moment to recompose, and I looked around – nobody noticed anything.

Merlin curse me! This was the first meeting with this woman and she attacked me without even saying a word to me. Due to the previous encounter, I felt myself feel a little dizzy, and I grabbed Dolohov's hand to steady myself. Catching the idea, he offered me his arm – a gesture that I am sure looked purely casual to others.

When I finally could breathe normal again and my head wasn't pounding I looked towards her again.

Tom was by her side, and they were talking animatedly, although their body language said they despised eachother.

I could see her motioning Tom to come closer, and he did. When they were only inches apart, she lifted off her chair slightly to whisper something in his ear – something I deemed to be a threat.

Yet, his reaction wasn't the one I counted on. No, instead of anger I saw a glimpse of pride on his face.

After nodding slightly to her, he started making his way towards me.

"Thank you." I whispered when I felt him close enough to hear me.

"She said you have too much power for your age. Powerful wizards would crumble down the moment they met her eyes."

"Including you?" I asked.

"Excluding me. She always crumbled under my gaze."

"You knew this would happen." I whispered to him, slightly enraged by his comment.

"Of course I did." He responded. "I know Caterina like the back of my hand."

"So this is the famous Caterina." I finally understood. "You could have at least warned about what she was to do, Riddle." I spat at him furiously.

"And ruin the element of surprise?" He asked me, amused.

"If I were you, I would run from my life the moment we are out of this room." I said, annoyed.

"We'll see that." He added, casually.

Our bickering was soon interrupted by a man clapping his hands. Our attention was on him now, as he started talking.

"We are here now to find a solution to this unfortunate event that happened. Please, take your seats"

After an hour of side discussions Hermione had had enough. It seemed that both sides avoided the real subject of the meeting: the offence England brought upon the Russians when Bellatrix killed some of theirs.

They were talking about economics and politics, and Hermione knew that Tom didn't bring the matter into discussion because he didn't have an empire yet.

Yes, he conquered the wizard community in England, but he did not have the time to organize and structure the Ministry Of Magic or the departments whatsoever. So that meant there was the same England – only with a different leader. Which actually meant nothing. Yes, England was a big colony and an outstanding naval and military force a long time ago, but that was because of the muggles. The wizarding society decided not to get involved in the matters of the muggles, not knowing that staying on the side meant losing a lot of power – power they would mostly need now.

As far as Hermione knew, the muggle society in Russia was hand in hand with the wizarding one. That meant one thing – they were damn threatening. They needed to call a truce and soon, because once the Russians are tired of side talk they will attack.

The Russians were animals – they did not think at the consequences, and if they had the power they will use it. And Merlin, did they have power. Hermione didn't even want to imagine what army they had. For England to even stand a chance against them, they had to talk to the British muggle Minister. Dumbledore once tried to bring the muggles into the battle against Voldemort and we all knew how that all turned out – the muggles chickened out, they said there was no reason for them to enter in that war.

The table was not silent, at all. There were a few officials talking mostly to Dolohov and Voldemort, Tom once again charming everyone in the room. _I'm afraid your charm won't work this time, Tom_, Hermione thought.

Only Caterina didn't even mutter a word throughout the whole discussion. Hermione believed she was planning something; she didn't seem to be the quiet observant type.

"If I may, I would like to add something." A seductive voice said from the other end of the table. All the eyes fell on her as Caterina started talking.

"We all know what this gathering is for." She started. It seemed that Hermione wasn't the only one who got bored with all this mindless talking. "We are here to discuss the repercussions of a certain Bellatrix Lestrange that decidedly felt the need to kill people from our community." She continued. "As I know for certain, I do not believe that England wanted to bring such an offence to Russia, but it was done."

A few from the tables nodded. The atmosphere darkened considerably, even Tom stiffened a bit. The negotiations were about to begin.

"Tom Riddle, as you are the leader of that country, I believe that a personal apology is in order."

Everybody in the room nodded again, and Tom seemed disgusted by the idea. If he apologized to the Russians it meant he was bending his country. Still, he knew he had to do that.

"I have taken the liberty of conceiving a list of requests Russia would like in order to forgive your apologies. I have also asked every member of this party to think of the best way for England to make up for the offence given. If I may ask everybody in this room to state their opinion. At the end, there will be a vote and England will have to pay the price decided.

The room was dead silent. Tom was stiff, his face extremely concentrated on something. As Hermione could look around her, Dolohov was the epitome of hardness and Lucius seemed too relaxed for that situation. They didn't have much time to think because a charmed parchment apparated in their faces, reading the following:

"In order to forgive England for its actions, the Russians deem the following things.

_A personal apology from Tom Marvolo Riddle, the leader of Great Britain, both in oral and written form._

_The immediate punishment of those who took part in the raid._

_A written consent from Tom Marvolo Riddle in which Russia may request military of monetary force if the situation requires._

_The immediate surrender of Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who initiated the raid._

_Personal apologies to the families of the muggles that died in the raid._

_An unbreakable vow from Tom Marvolo Riddle that all the caluses of this contract will be respected._

_If the clauses of the contract are broken, Russia will take immediate action against Great Britain as the leaders will see fit._

As Hermione read the contract, she could not believe her eyes. There was no way in this world someone in his sane mind would sign this, much less Tom Riddle.

"I understand you have all finished reading the terms. Is there anyone from the officials of Russia that want to add or subtract something?" Caterina interrupted the silence. There was a gleam of hatred on her face, and her eyes sparkled dangerously. She knew that if Tom signed that he literally handed England over to the Russians.

No one from the Russians wanted to add anything, all nodding courtly. They were satisfied of Caterina's handiwork, Hermione understood.

"Very good then. Is there anything on the other side?" She asked in an ironical tone.

And that was that for Hermione. She had enough of this woman's wicked ways. If she wanted to duel, she will duel. But in that moment Hermione's mind was set into bringing the witch down.

"If I may add, miss Caterina." Hermione started putting her hands on the table elegantly.

Caterina nodded and Hermione started immediately:

"Great Britain has indeed brought a great offence to the Russians but I believe that the terms of your contract are unreasonable. Since the attack was not premeditated and It happened without the permission of an authorized official from the Great Britain, I believe this matter should be treated as an incident, not an insult." Caterina's face hardened, as she opened her mouth to say something.

"Which power invests you to talk on the behalf of Great Britain, little girl?" She said, a smile beaming on her face.

"I am invested by the power of Tom Riddle, as I am a counselor of his. I am here to take place into these negotiations and I will not step back when I see an injustice is about to be made. Great Britain will only agree to a few of your terms and those would be the following: _A personal apology from Tom Marvolo Riddle, the leader of Great Britain, both in oral and written form. The immediate surrender of Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who initiated the raid and Personal apologies to the families of the muggles that died in the raid._ No contract will be signed with other terms than these.", Hermione added.

Tom, who was standing by her side, decided to continue her little speech.

"As miss Granger said," he threw a look over at Hermione, but she didn't understand if he was pleased of angry with her, "England does not agree with your terms. I believe that a mere apology would have sufficed in the first place but we show great respect towards your country and we are going to offer you Bellatrix Lestrange. We agree on those terms or we do not."

"Excuse me," One of the ministry's advisors started talking "Russia understands that these terms are not most pleasant for you but the offence was great." The man with the white hair stated, his face hard and covered in wrinkles.

"I was only an offence," Hermione started again. "We did not do anything on purpose. As I am sure, Russia has offended many other countries along history. Due to your – excuse my straightforwardness – inflexible behavior, many lives were lost. Great Britain is known to be correct and impartial. This is all we offer you. If you consider that our offerings aren't generous enough, you are to take action. Just remember, Great Britain has many, many powerful and talented wizards and witches. On the other hand, we just got out of a war and we are more than prepared in facing another. Please, consider our offerings. I suggest we meet here in about an hour for you to have time and consider your options."

All the men in the room were taken aback by her courage – that bloody Gryffindor courage – and they had nothing to do but to agree with the girl. The only one who looked thirsty for blood was Caterina, now contemplating her wand with such hatred that the poor wood seemed to avoid her by falling backwards.

Without anymore words, Hermione motioned to lift herself up the chair and grabbed Tom's arm, a fact that enraged Caterina even more.

In an instant, the woman was near Hermione, pointing her wand at Hermione's neck, her hand trembling and a few strands from her previously perfectly combed hair falling in her eyes.

"You insolent child!" Caterina muttered, her words practically spreading hatred in the eyes.

Hermione, on the other side, was expecting this. As she could feel a wand pointed at her neck, she knew that a mere wandless Expelliarmus would disarm the blond with and land her on her arse.

"What are you about to do?" Hermione asked her, her voice perfectly calm.

"Do not force my hand, girl! You have no idea what I am capable of! You cannot come here and claim my country and get away with it" Caterina replied, her wand moving dangerously from Hermione's neck to her heart.

"We know this is not about Russia, Caterina. I believe that this is about The Dark Lord" Hermione said to her, a bit angered.

Tom, who was watching everything with a slight amusement in his eyes, motioning Dolohov and Lucius not to interfere; he knew Hermione could take down Caterina and he also knew that his witch had a plan. She wouldn't endanger herself and their country for nothing. She'd better have a plan.

"Do not even mention his name, girl, for he is not the reason of this conversation. You are mudding everything; yes, I know you are a mudblood. You are mudding England and you are mudding everything around you." But as soon as the words got out of her mouth there were a few gasps in the room. Caterina understood than she had made a big mistake, since she was the one now offending the people around her.

"Expelliarmus!" Whispered Hermione, as Caterina's wand flew towards her. Catching it in her hands, she muttered a restraining charm, similar to the one she had used on Bellatrix.

To say everybody in the room was amazed by the grace and power this little girl called Hermione Granger was an understatement.

Carefully, Hermione made her way towards the Russian minister of magic, offering him a bow and Caterina's wand.

The minister was about 60 years old, his face showing a few signs of getting older, but overall he looked younger than his age. His beard was well trimmed, yet his eyes showed no sign of kindness. He looked like a harsh person, yet, Hermione wasn't intimidated.

"My deepest apologies, Mr. Minister, for causing such a scene." Hermione bowed, her hands holding Caterina's wand.

The minister seemed pleased by her actions, taking the wand and offering Hermione a seat.

"May you all please be seated!" He started talking his voice harsh, probably from alcohol and cigarettes. He was an intimidating person, of course, and Hermione understood there was no toying with this man.

Tom took the seat near Hermione, and as silence filled the room, he started talking.

"I believe, Mr. Minister, that your main advisor had some personal interest in all this matter. All that happened in this room will not be mentioned further, if you sign the contract under our terms." Tom added, his face filled with pride and glee. Yes, his minx found a way from getting them out of this mess. After all, she was his greatest weapon.

The Minister only nodded, understanding the situation. If word got out that Russia didn't have a strong and organized system it would produce a whole mass media scandal, and he was not ready for that.

"I agree, Mr. Riddle." He stated, a few moments after. "We will sign the contract in exchange of your silence."

Tom practically emanated glee, as they altered the contract under Britain's terms. He only had to apologize a few times and hand Bellatrix to them. That woman was too much trouble after all, but she will certainly face his wrath before sending her to the Russians.

Hermione, on the other side, was silent. She smiled to herself, obviously content with her actions.

After a few minutes the contract was signed, the British having to stay in Russia for a few more days in order to complete all the requests.

As they shook hands, the minister, who seemed to have taken a deep interest in Hermione, approached her.

"It was a pleasure negotiating with you, Miss Granger. Hope to hearing from you soon!" The man said.

"The pleasure was all mine", Hermione responded him with a smile.

On their way back to the camp, Hermione uttered no word to Tom.

He knew she told him she would be upset, but this silent treatment was getting the worst out of him. Women were infuriating at most; he knew why he kept himself far away from them so much time.

As they arrived at the camp, Dolohov started telling the good news to everybody and Lucius got the first broom he got in his way and left for the Malfoy Manor.

The atmosphere was not was tense as it was before, but Tom knew better than to rely on the Russians – or on Caterina for that matter, who he knew would be now infuriated at worst.

He and Hermione headed for their tent, and she was still giving him the silent treatment.

But as soon as he entered the tent, a stinging hex hit him hard in the leg, making him fall down on his knees.

"You selfish arrogant prick!" Seemed that Hermione gave up the silent treatment and started acting in a more violent way. She was facing him now, her wild hair in pointing all directions while her face was an unhealthy shade of red!

Tom was angry to say at least, but one some extent he knew he deserved that. At least she was wise enough not to do it in public.

"Do not make me hurt you." He stated, his voice deadly. This is going to be an interesting night.

" You?" Hermione started laughing manically, her own voice foreign to her. "You could not even tell me what I had gotten myself into, Riddle! How dare you? HOW dare you bring me into a room full of people and not warn me there was a price on my head!" She screamed at him.

"If I told you, you could have not avoided it, Hermione! You came here to stay by my side and that was the quest I chose for you!" He threw at her, his voice full of venom.

"You ridiculous son of… "But she stopped before she muttered that word because that would bring too much unwanted trouble upon her head. And she didn't fancy any a few rows of Crucio for tonight. "I came HERE because I fight for the LIGHT! I HAVE ALWAYS FOUGHT FOR THE LIGHT! Nothing you are going to do or make to me will change that. And since that light is gone – as you most elegantly killed it – I am here to protect interests of the weak. And in that case, England was weak, even if it had you and me on its side!" She couldn't do it anymore, she felt tears forming, her cheeks were burning but there was still no reaction from him.

"You dare to say you fight for the light but look where you are standing. In a Death Eater camp, protecting the Death Eaters! Look around you, you insolent witch!" Tom spat at her, on his feet now, his wand in his hand, still looking extremely calm.

"If my country is one made of Death Eaters I accept that! But I refuse to let you think I am doing it for you. I am doing it to protect it from you! I refuse to let you tear my country into pieces!"

"Will you stop with the rambling, Hermione!" He started talking, his voice somewhat caressing.

"How on earth can I stop rambling? You said you would give this entire charade up for me! I DO not want you to give it UP! I want you to make the best out of it. You have this whole power, use it to mend, to repair, not to break!" She spat at him, tears finally falling on her cheeks endlessly. There was no coming back now, she said it. And from the moment she said it, it became clear to her as well. "You said you'll fight me if I stand in your way, but it works both ways, Tom. I do not fight for my own person, for you have already almost broken me. I fight for the Greater Good, which is something you will never understand!"

"I understand it better that you think, Hermione," He said, throwing his wand away and walking with slow steps towards her. As they were merely an inch away from each other, his hand started wiping her tears slowly. "I need you to stop me from tearing this world apart!"

_Review at your liking._


	19. A scar, a simple touch, and then relief

**A.N.: I am sorry for the delay; I believe that the only thing I could ask is your honest opinion. This chapter reflects some parts of me I never knew existed.**

The first time I ever loved, I loved a child. Later I understood that in order to know how to love you needed to love first. Love cannot be found in books or in theory. Love is a force that can and will survive without needing to be balanced by everything else. I understand now that love – even though makes you bear horrendous consequences – means accepting everything without even a glimpse of a doubt.

I doubted for a long time that I loved that child, and when he left, I found myself missing the object of my affection.

But as a child, you are not aware of such trivial matters as consequences. If you get bored by a toy you throw it away, if you don't know the road to home, you walk along with strangers. I loved that child, even if I later understood that what I was feeling was in fact maternal love – but love, nonetheless.

But in the whirlwind of my emotions and extensive rationalization I never got the chance to tell that child how much I actually loved him. How much it actually mattered that he existed for me he existed in that world. He was the one and only lesson I never fully understood.

I have never reached that level of detachment that allows me to look him in the eye and feel nothing. I learned to be detached later, after I learned to focus my mind. But that child – the only reason I decided to change myself – left my heart completely later, as time passed by and washed away all the memories.

There are times when you wonder: _"How much of it all is it actually worth it?"_. That question alone lifts so many adjacent questions whose answers will never be truly revealed.

I loved a child in order to find out how to love.

That child will suffer later, when he will realize that he lost the one and only things that praised him above every other soul in this world. That child will understand that a mother isn't the one that gives birth to you, but it's the one who whispers "One step at the time. You'll make it." in your left ear every time you try to learn to walk.

That child was Ron Weasley. Not the brightest of them all, not the slowest either. Not the most beautiful, not the most motivated and for sure not the one who will achieve great things.

My love for Ron went further than physical attraction, it manifested on a level that I didn't fully understand then, but I do now.

It's common knowledge now that Ron left me, Hermione Granger, for Lavander Brown. An "insipid blonde" as I used to call her. Oh dear, when I remember all the moments I loathed her for touching him I feel like laughing. Ron needed a trophy, someone to show to the world, and let's face it, in Hogwarts I wasn't the most beautiful girl in the crowd. I had something special, I did, but it was not pure beauty. There were few who looked after me intrigued by what was hidden beyond that bushy hair. Even though I could swear that I can remember Malfoy peeking at me sometimes, and even Zabini.

As much as it pains me to say, Malfoy always was a worthy competitor. He was one of the few who were selective enough to require some brains to get in bet with you.

When Ron hooked up with Lavander, dumping me "as a garbage bag" I never understood what I did to deserve something like that.

Four months later I was still secretly crying after Ron every night before I went to sleep but the pain faded away slowly.

Four months later Ron officially announced his relationship with Lavander. It was quite a shock, I recalled, and I shed a few tears. But after an hour and so, I realized that I felt nothing. Yes, I still loved Ron, I wished him the best and I truly believed that Lavander isn't the one for him, but he looked happy. Even though I could spot some reluctance when she touched him, he sustained that he was happy and we all wanted to believe him.

One week later I could feel Ron look on me and it was stinging like a hex. When I finally gathered the courage to look him back in the eyes the only thing I could see was regret. Lavander was beside him, of course, but he did not acknowledge her presence.

Two weeks later I spotted them fighting in the corridors but I didn't put much thought into that.

Three weeks later Hogwarts was filled with the rumors that Ron and Lavander broke up, no one knowing the real reason.

I didn't have it in me to go and comfort him, but one night, as I was returning from class I spotted him standing in front of my chambers. When I asked him what had happened he told me that he finally understood. He understood and he will never let me go. Although I have dreamt so many times for this moment, few dreams become reality. The only thing I could do was stare into his eyes blankly and reply: "I only love you like a brother, Ron."

All I could think was: "Please, give me just two more seconds to say goodbye."

That night I wrote in my journal "Goodbye, Ron." I never wrote into that notebook anything again.

The second time I loved somebody, I loved a man. A man bent on power and domination. I also learned that he was vile, evil. I believed that all the love in the world was like the love I felt for Ron: pure. I never believed that I could ever love him, for he was Lord Voldemort and he felt no love.

I knew that it was possible to love somebody and not to be loved in return. I also knew that if I allowed myself to feel something for Tom it will backfire on me and I would not like the consequences. So I refrained for loving him, trying to trick myself into hating him, but the more I tried, the harder it got.

I was intrigued by him, to say that at last. I was intrigued by the fact that the said he could not feel attachment for any other being than himself. I was already tired of playing the part of a savior so I never tried anything.

The first time I met him was when my cover was blown and I was shoved on his floor. He was looking more like a snake than a human but for some reason I was never scared. The first time I actually saw him was when I realized that the snake appearance was nothing but a mix of ingenious charms meant to inspire fear and terror.

The first time he touched me was a blur for I can only remember a rush of heat and soft hand caressing all my body. I could feel his anger in his touches but I could never find the nerve to touch him in return. I could feel my heat trying to envelope him but he was resisting somehow, refraining from exposing too much of himself to me. I remember a mass of tangled feet and hands drenched in sweat, I remember my hand trying to grab something to hold onto but all I could see, hear, touch and hear was him.

He never understood that I could never figure him out. As much as I tried, I could never find my way through so many layers. I remember him smiling against my skin when he realized I was a virgin and I remember he was happy because he was the first one to possess me in such way. I could literally feel his happiness and excitement radiating though his pores. Little did he know that I was on some level grateful to let him have me, it was most fitting for the brightest witch of her age to be together with the most powerful wizard in this world. So I gave in.

I remember that he told me he could give up "that entire charade" for him, and that charade would be the world. Little did he know that I cared shit about this world because all I wanted was him.

And even now, as I see him standing tall and proud in front of me, I cannot help from wanting him.

"I need you to stop me from tearing this world apart, Hermione." he repeated, his face stoic even though I could hear him beg through his voice. He looked like a drug addict, like an alcoholic who finally realized that he is tearing everything that surrounds him apart from the inside, and he wanted to stop but he did not know why.

"No." Was all that I could say?

And while my mind was screaming _no, no, no, no, no, _it seemed my body was far more relaxed than I wanted to.

"'Don't you know what I can do? Don't you see the power I possess, don't you feel it girl?"

"Of course I do." I replied. My answers were so cryptic I scared even myself.

"Then why don't you do anything?" he screamed, his hands up in the air.

"You should be celebrating. We just had a small victory against Russia and I am sure I could count on my fingers how many times this happened throughout history."

"You know that once I leave this tent many people will suffer!" he screamed at me, this time louder.

"I know."

"Where's your mind, woman?"

"I will not stop you from doing anything, Tom." I said one last time before grabbing my things and reaching for the bed.

I expected Crucio, I expected pain, hot lava running through my veins or at least knives piercing my skin.

What I did not expect was exactly what had happened.

Because Tom did not reach for his wand and he did not curse me. Tom regained his calm, undressed himself of his cloak and reached the bed. He calculatedly lay on the mattress on his side and closed his eyes.

"I'm tired Hermione, close the lights and let's just sleep."

And I did as I told, resting face to face with him, while I closed my eyes.

Sleep did not get me for a long time but as I felt his breaths became deeper and even I knew that he was indeed asleep. It was a long day for all of us.

As I reached for his soft hair, I ran my fingers though them and I could feel him shiver lightly though his sleep.

"I can never stop you to do what you are meant to do, love. That is not my aim, I am not meant to stop you or fight you. I am just here to be beside you. How can you not understand that?"

When his eyes opened slowly I immediately regretted what I said knowing that he heard it.

"I would tell you something, but I don't know if it's true." He had been sleeping, his eyes were red and his eyelids heavy, his face was a little flushed since he felt asleep in his robes, but I have never found him more beautiful than then.

"I would tell you the same thing, but I don't know if you could handle it." I responded.

"Maybe someday." His soft voice filled my ears as sleep started to claim me. He did not embrace me nor did he try to kiss me – we didn't need such trivial displays of affection. All I needed was his body heat somewhere close to me and his sweet breath on my face. As I inhaled what he exhaled the world seemed more peaceful for a moment, even if I slept with the devil.

The world was more peaceful while we slept for the one and only reason that we were maybe the greatest threats to its destruction.

Yet, in the morning, things were a little different. After taking care of the other details of their departure Tom immediately ordered the death eaters to pack up everything because the next day they will be leaving. Hermione could tell that everything around here was distressed, there was no longer that pressure and tension when she got there – maybe it was because of the fact they won the argument, maybe because they were coming back to their families. Still, nobody was really knowing what was happening in Wiltshire at that moment.

_Wiltshire, Great Britain._

Narcissa paced nervously on the floor. She knew that everything was ok in Russia but she hoped everybody will return safe and sound home. Ever since they left everything in the manor has been uncontrollably loud. Everybody was screaming and asking for information, she received daily visits from the wives of the other Death Eaters and she felt exhausted from telling the same story over and over again. Yes, they were ok and yes, they were coming home. Some of them understood some of them cried and many others asked for reassurance. They started begging Narcissa for their husbands, as if she was a higher power that could bring their husbands and sons home. _When one does not have a god, one makes one_, Narcissa thought.

From what she heard, Bellatrix was an important part of the agreement and she would be sent to the Russians as a part of the contract. There was a day before everybody returned home, and the woman found herself missing Hermione the most. When Hermione was here, a feeling of safeness and assurance gravitated around her, but the morning she left the whole despair begun.

Narcissa knew that little girl had something to do with all that, excluding the fact that she gave Tom more confidence and strength. There was indeed something changed around her, she carried around almost the same aura Tom carried. Her powers seemed to have grown somehow and she seemed to possess a force of compulsion she didn't before. There had something to do with all those books Tom left her before he left, that _old _prat always had a plan.

Perhaps this experience taught them both to confide and support each other no matter what. They did belong together – they had that effect on you that once you've seen them together as a couple you can never imagine them apart.

Narcissa was sure nobody really wanted a party or a celebration but organized one none the less – one – they were her speciality and – two – she was really glad for them to come back and all those crazily insane woman that were knocking on her door various times a day for information really needed to focus on something.

With this thought on her mind, she summoned them at the manor scheduling a party there the next Friday, which was two days away.

With all the pile of useless and brainless woman doing her job – the credits ultimately reaching her, of course – she needed one more thing to take care of before Tom and Hermione arrived.

"Mimsy" Narcissa called.

A small yet smart dressed house elf apparated out of soft air immediately.

"Yes, my lady." The elf bowed eager for the following order.

"I need you to move Hermione's things to a greater room; I believe that she and the Dark Lord will be spending the night there tomorrow. She really doubted that Tom wanted to return to that tasteless castle of his – even if it was practical, there were few rooms in there that could actually accommodate a lady. And she was also pretty certain that Tom really didn't want to sleep apart from Hermione at least a couple of nights.

"Yes, my lady. The room will be ready in an hour."

"Very good Mimsy. If anyone calls, I want them to tell them I'm indisposed and I am not seeing anybody for the rest of the day."

"Yes, my lady."

"Go, now!" Narcissa motioned her hand as the elf bent down, apparating away a minute after.

She waited a few moments before elegantly walking to a writing desk, grabbing a piece of parchment and started writing in her long, pointy letters.

_I need you to help me with something._

_Narcissa Malfoy._

Walking to the olwery, she approached a beautiful white owl, and whispered to her. "Take this to the Notts. Give it to Theodore."

Theodore didn't actually leave the Nott Manor since he came back from that blasted raid from Russia. Lounging on a comfortable chair, he really didn't care what had happened there, he only wanted to save his own skin and he did. Of course it wasn't his intention to start a war or something like that, but what had happened stays in the past. If the Voldemort didn't punish them until now – believing they were only kids – he was now certain he won't die anytime soon.

He was indeed very surprised when he received an owl from someone since nowadays rarely anyone approached him believing he was irresponsible. He was quite ok with the idea, really.

When he was whom the letter was from, he frowned a bit knowing that it wasn't really good news. Narcissa was never good news. Draco may be cunning and manipulative, but Narcissa was by far the person who he inherited the genes from.

Grabbing his cloak, he left for the Malfoy Manor.

He found the blond woman on the parlor, sipping from her tea like it was a sort of an art.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Good day, Theodore." Narcissa greeted her with her soft voice. "I will cut all the pleasantries from the beginning, Nott. You know exactly why I summoned you here."

Theodore was a bit taken aback by her straightforwardness and to be honest, he had no idea why he was there.

"Actually, I have no idea."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at him but after a few moments she realized he really did not understand.

"Very well then. I am surprised to see that I might have overestimated you. I have brought you here because believe it or not, we have a common interest."

"And what would that be?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange. I want her dead and you want all the guilt to wash away from your hands. I know Bella didn't do that on her own, Nott, someone planted that idea on her head and as a sociopath she had no choice but to develop it until she took action. And look where that got us."

"And why would you suspect me?"

"Because, my dear boy, you are the one who wanted Tom to leave and leave Hermione unattended here. Bellatrix has her obsession for him and it worked perfectly on your favor. So you planted the idea in Bella's brain, she took action but you underestimated the lengths she will go to damage people. What you believed to be a minor disturbance to Voldemort, enough to offer you a few days with Hermione. What you didn't know was that you dragged yourself deep into that mess when you helped her with the raid. The problem is, Theodore, you almost hurt my son and my husband in the process."

"You cannot prove anything of that." Theodore replied, fidgeting slightly.

"My goal is not to prove anything, Nott. I already know. And right now all I want to rip your head off but I am not doing it yet because you might prove useful. I may be the only one who caught up with everything but if I do so much as drop a hint on you to the dark lord your existence will take a rather painful turn. You should really leave these games for the ones who can handle them, Nott."

"What do you want?" Theodore finally understood who he was facing. Now, he had no other choice but do what the mischievous woman wanted.

"A potion. I cannot purchase it myself because all the members of my family would immediately find out, and since I know that the Notts have quite a reputation with that."

"What's the name?"

"_The Procul Absens _potion. My reasons are clear to you, Nott. I feel no need to hide my intentions from you. I will kill Bellatrix sooner or later and I need that potion to do so. I need it by the end of the week."

"Very well, Narcissa."

"You may leave now, child." Narcissa added in her maternal tone. She was really sorry for that kid; he actually had no idea what he was facing. She saw him with the corner of her eye that he was grabbing his cloak and approaching the door.

"Theodore?" She called him.

"Yes?" He turned around facing her again, only to find her quite amused.

"Leave Parkinson out of this. You may be young and cunning but you cannot handle things like that. I know you involved her in some way." Theodore smiled this time too, he really liked this woman. He smiled his crooked and drop-dead smile to her and he was quite surprised when the blonde bit her lower lip slightly.

Oh no, no… was he aroused by her? She was old, she was Draco's mother. That was so wrong, but that woman really knew her game. She really knew how to be irresistible.

"Very well, miss Malfoy." He added before leaving. He had a potion to purchase.

As the night fell upon England and Narcissa was preparing herself for bed she thought she heard something. Ignoring the noise she kept brushing her hair mechanically while staring at herself in that huge vanity mirror. She really liked playing with Nott on her fingers; she guessed that in a month she could have that boy to eat from the palm of her hand.

She was quite appreciative of the fact that he turned out quite well even without a feminine presence in his life, and he really did know a few things about women. If he managed to go past Bella's walls and make her believe something that meant the boy really had some potential. It would be such a shame to waste it.

A shiver went though her bones which only meant that there was a change in the wards of the Manor, and the one who entered wasn't a Malfoy. No, it was someone more powerful than that. That only meant only one thing. They were home.

She quickly dressed in some casual robes and literally ran down the hall to the main entrance.

As she opened the gates she could see something that looked like an army of black cloaks approaching her house but never in her life Narcissa felt more secure.

Hermione and Tom were in the middle, side by side, leading everyone.

"Welcome, My Lord." She bowed with a smile on her face.

Tom didn't smile but he kissed her hand affectionately and immediately after Hermione gave her a brief hug.

"You arrived earlier than I thought." She admitted, but thrilled none the less of their presence.

"There was no need for us to stay." Hermione responded, looking really tired.

"I need to use the main Hall for a few moments Narcissa." Tom added.

"Of course."

After a quick 15 minutes in which Tom ordered all the Death Eaters to go home, rest and announced them there will be a meeting tomorrow everybody dissaparated from the Hall, leaving only Narcissa, Hermione, Lucius and Tom.

"I have arranged a room for you to and a warm bath will be ready in a few moments." Narcissa cut the silence and Tom and Hermione nodded, feeling really pleased they didn't have to apparate away that night.

"I must apologize Narcissa but the road was very tiring. I believe we will soon leave for our quarters." Tom stated while everyone else nodded.

They bid each other good night but Narcissa took the time to hug Hermione for a few seconds and whisper in her ear she was glad she was ok.

The only answer she got was "I'm alive. That's all that matters." Coming from a very tired Hermione.

They parted their ways, and that night Narcissa had plans to make love to Lucius like when they were young.

"That bath sound wonderful." Hermione cut the silence while a house elf walked them to the room.

"It does." Was all Tom could say.

As they entered the room, the first thing they did was to unclasp their clothes and discard all of their clothes. The room was warm and cozy, the fire filling it with a warm, summery light.

Without even looking at each other, they reached for the bathroom together, slowly lowering themselves in the hot water.

The silence was not awkward, but mostly comfortable. They did not talk from the moment they fell asleep together in the tent. Tom was too busy organizing the departure and Hermione found the deserted places in Russia perfect to try and practice new spells.

As heat invaded their senses, the how tub big enough for them not touching, Hermione slowly opened her eyes and bid herself a moment to watch him.

The muscles on his arms were slightly contracting due to the effort he put in riding that broom for so many hours. His neck was exposed to her, and even she did not see underwater she could tell he was aroused by the sight of her naked exposed breasts.

He met her gaze, and for a moment, they just watched eachother. Without words they started moving towards the middle of the tub, meeting each other with a slow, passionate kiss.

As their lips descended, on eachother, their limbs tangled and everything that mattered was for them to become one.

He caressed the side of her right breast with his thumb, while she was diligently kissing his exposed neck with long, precise flickers of tongue.

"You lasted long enough." He told her, not sure if he meant that he didn't have sex in a long time or that she stood by his side longer than he had ever imagined.

"You know what I want." She whispered in his ear while her legs found their way around her waist. She could feel him near her core, but it was not the time yet for their union. "I do not want love songs or chocolate." She added, "I only want your presence around me."

"What if I told you I did?" Tom begun, his thumbs caressing her nipples as she bent towards him, wanting more contact, wanting more skin, more of him.

"You did what?" Hermione asked, as her legs applied more pressure on his waist, urging him to come forward.

"You know exactly what I mean." He responded, lifting her a bit up in order to position her above his throbbing length.

She opened her eyes, not believing what she had heard. Was he implying that… no… it was impossible. But as she found his eyes boring into hers she parted her legs further all while saying:

"Lower your shield and I'll lower mine."

And he did just that, and while she was lowering herself on him, his arms clutched at her back and her own hands grabbing onto him, their minds started connecting.

The moment he entered her fully she gasped in pleasure, never realizing how much she actually missed that.

And then she felt his emotions, she understood that he was confused but she also felt affection and doubt and power and suddenly she understood them all. And she also felt her own presence in his mind. That part that was completely dedicated to her where she could feel a glimmer of something she never believed she could around him.

"What if…" he groaned while moving her up and down slowly, wanting to feel every fiber of her being "…I told you…" he stroked her neck and kissed her lips as she parted her lips to let him in… "I loved you?"

And as she opened her eyes and her heart, she finally understood. She didn't need to try and change him; he will change himself for her.

"You do?" She asked, wanting so much to hear that answer, realizing that while being inside her in every way possible was the perfect timing for such a confession.

"I do." He replied somewhat affectionately as he drew her even closer, as their skins were one and their minds too. "I love you."

Those three words exploded in her mind while she exploded on the outside, her body trembling by the sensations. She fell limp moments later, his strong hands being the only thing that kept her from sinking underwater.

He did not reach his orgasm yet, but she felt him starting to frenetically pumping into her. As she could feel his body trembling her ability to speak returned to her, but all that she could say was "I love you more."

Sleep came to them later that night, and ever if no words were spoken after their love making the world felt more peaceful for a moment.

The world was a better place when they were asleep.

_Review if you have something to say._


	20. Midnight visits and new boundaries

**A.N. Sorry I haven't updated in a long time, but I have been very busy with school and life and moving around Manchester. Hope you enjoy this one, it took quite a while to complete.**

Click. Clap. Click. Clap. Click. Clap.

With mathematical precision, her heels were echoing the great hall of the Malfoy Manor.

Everybody could see quite an angry Hermione searching for someone in particular, yet, she did not utter a word nor asked someone. She was just searching with her eyes while taking long, precise, steps.

The Manor was quite full of people, since it was the first day they came back from Russia and Tom _kindly _invited everyone to a revel. To celebrate, he said.

Click. Clap. Click. Clap.

Everytime her lace-up boots were touching the floor she could see someone shivering slightly. Hermione knew that all the power she held now could be easily observed by people, yet, she never thought it was that obvious. The waves of her hair looked electric, leaving that smell of power behind her.

She could see people trying to move out of her way, yet she paid them no attention.

Click. Clap. Click. Clap.

Suddenly, she stopped, and so did the noises her shoes made. _There you are..._

Yes, she found him.

Hermione's face lit up with a smile.

„Theodore Nott." It was just a statement.

Theo was just there, his eyes wide open and his expression unreadable. He was just was good looking as usual – the same pure-blooded prick, dressed in his perfectly tailored clothes, nothing amiss.

„Hermione." He greeted.

„Do you have a moment to spare?" She asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.

„Of course. Lead the way."

Hermione pointed towards a big wooden door with intricate details, probably as old as the entire Malfoy Manor.

„Let's go to the drawing room then." She finally said.

After a few long strides then entered the room and she quickly closed the door behind them.

„Please take a seat, Theodore." She motioned to the chair.

He did as she asked, knowing there was no option in leaving anymore. She wanted to talk to him about Merlin knows what and there was no escape. Yet, he felt his pants become uncomfortably tight only by looking at her. Merlin, she was beautiful.

„What do you want to talk about, Hermione."

„Well, Theodore, as you may have been informed the Dark Lord and I have been to Russia to take care of the mess you created with Bellatrix."

„Yes, I am aware of the fact, Hermione, but shouldn't the Dark Lord be here to chastise me about my errors?" He asked, with a smug smile on his face.

„The Dark Lord has left me the task _chastise_ you for what you've been doing, Nott. So, like it or not, from now on you are under my orders." Hermione added her voice flat.

Theodore smirked in a full Slytherin fashion „I may be under your orders, Hermione, but I'd rather be under you."

„Crucio".

Hermione was fast. She realized she lost her temper only after some good 30 seconds of screaming and after seeing Theodore in a strange position on the floor. Yet, she didn't lift the curse. There was pleasure in seeing him that way, after he tried playing her.

„Hermione... please, Hermione..."

The boy was on the floor, begging, and his mouth full of blood. Hell, there was blood everywhere. There was blood on the floor, on the brick wall, some even on the ceiling. Yet, nobody seemed to care.

„Hermione, please... don't do this Hermione."

„Hermione..."

Her name was his last word, and she was grateful for that. Because even after all that time, she made him suffer, she made him feel what she felt and nobody could ever blame her for that.

She only stopped when he stopped saying anything.

She lifted the curse and muttered a few essential healing spells – she didn't want him to die, not yet.

Theo was on the floor his body trembling from the effects of the curse. He felt that she was healing him yet he knew she was not being a helpful and good human being; she just wanted to keep him alive longer.

She levitated him to a soft couch where she started cleaning him with her wand, scourgifying his clothes. When he was as good as new, Hermione smiled at him and with caressed his forehead with her hand tentatively. It may have seemed a motherly gesture but that fact scared Theodore more than the Crucio itself.

After a few moments of stroking his hair she bent over and kissed his forehead in a loving gesture that actually seemed real.

Theodore was too scared to say anything, everything looked so surreal. It was like she was trying to break him and the bad part was that she could easily be successful.

"You knew what was in for you the moment you stepped with me into that room." When he didn't say anything and showed no signs to doing it also, she continued. "You're lucky I could stop. It's very hard, you know. When you have all that power it's incredible and intoxicating. Every fiber of your being trembles with power and it's so hard to stop."

"What happened to you?"She asked her, and for the first time since she knew him, he was treating her as an equal.

"Let's just say I'm less like you now and more like Tom." She stated as her eyes flickered with sadness.

"Can you stop it?" He asked, taking comfort in her hand that was still idly stroking his curly hair.

"It's not as easy as it seems. Some things are just meant to be, Theo. Yet, I am not sorry for punishing your sorry arse in there."

In spite of all he was feeling in that moment, he smiled.

"I was not even mildly considering you were sorry."

She laughed. And as she laughed he felt a few waves of magic washing over him, and it felt wonderful. She almost had the same effect as Voldemort around people.

"And what about The Dark Lord?"

"What about Tom?"

"Describe what's going on between you and him…if you will."

She looked deep in thought for a few seconds but her answer came nonetheless.

"It's fucking _unbreakable._" She replied her face capturing a hint of seriousness.

He smiled again. How he underestimated this woman from the first time he saw her.

"Who's next on the list?"

"Wouldn't you want to know... Now go, get up. Do what Narcissa told you to do." She motioned to the door, smiling.

"How did you know?"

She just smiled.

Outside the door people gathered, curious and scared at the same time by the screams young Mister Nott was releasing. For a young quiet boy he certainly had lungs, or maybe her spell was that powerful. It was a sign of dignity not to scream when someone was putting a curse upon you, but they guess it must have been that strong.

After a few minutes the screaming stopped and they feared for the worst.

Narcissa was there too, listening to the spectacle that was taking place in her home. She usually didn't approve of these kinds of meetings in her house but that Nott boy needed to be taught a lesson. And Hermione seemed to take that matter into her own hands. Good girl.

A few minutes later young Nott left the room smiling relentlessly.

He just greeted everybody, even if his robes were not as pristine as he entered the room, his face didn't look someone's who's just been Crucio-ed to the brink of death.

That Granger girl was rather weird.

*  
Tom was just organizing the papers around his desk. He knew he was a wizard and he could simply use a spell and they would all jump into their place but it helped him clear his mind this way. He said something he never thought he would say to Hermione the previous night, he knew he meant it, but he needed some time to put his thoughts in order and analyze the possible perspectives of the future. So he said he lov… no, that he cared about her last night that would mean that they were bound, somehow. Yet, she was still free and he didn't like that. Not at all.

He got up this morning and she was still sleeping and left a note to her to punish Nott. He really wanted her to do that, to realize she was superior to all those people that were gravitating aimlessly around them.

He was midway to arranging some records from the early 90's when she came into his office, a smile across her face looking more beautiful than ever.

She just tossed her cloak on the floor and sat on his desk, making a mess of his papers.

But old habits die hard.

"Did I give you the permission to enter, mudblood?"

Contempt. That was the expression on his face now and it mirrored Hermione's. Her previous smiling mood vanished quickly.

"Fuck off, Riddle." She spat.

Hermione quickly got up from the desk and motioned to leave. Yet, he was faster than her and he had her pinned onto the desk in no time.

"You insufferable, self-righteous…"

"Keep those insults for Malfoy, will you, dear?" He asked, sarcastically.

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Riddle?"

"No, I woke up with somebody, with is worse."

"You disgust me" She added.

"I doubt that, dear. I seem to recall you riding me rather hard last night." He smirked at her.

"Fuck off." What was up with her and swearing today? It seemed like a bad day.

"I think I'll fuck you, now."

As soon as those words left his mouth he started caressing her sides rather painfully, wanting to feel the muscles of her ribcage.

She tried to push him away, but he was way too strong. Way too strong for him. Yet, she didn't stop fighting.

"You think you are going to fuck me after calling me mudblood? Seriously, Riddle? I know you didn't have many girlfriends in the past but you should really take some lessons on taking a girl to bed. Since you already know _everything else._"

Well, she knew that wasn't the right thing to say in that very moment but she could not stop herself. She liked teasing him as much as he liked teasing her.

She felt that familiar pull of side-along apparition and the next second they were in their room, on the bed.

"Not only that I am going to fuck you, but you are going to beg for it." He added with a smile on his face.

"I strongly doubt that."

"We'll see."

She felt him look for his wand but didn't take that too seriously until he had his wand at her temple and muttered "Imperio".

Warmness took over her senses and she felt extremely light-headed. At the back of her mind she realized what she was doing, but there was nothing she could do. She waited for her order.

Truth to be told, she had nothing else to lose anymore. She would have done exactly what he told her anyway, the Imperio was just a security measure.

"Undress, dear."

She heard him command. I was harsh, he feeling. She tried to resist it for a moment but her hands starting working on her own, unbuttoning her blouse at a regular pace.

She was wearing a white, perfectly ironed shirt and some black skinny jeans. After being done with her buttons, she unzipped her jeans and discarded them on the floor.

He was looking at her with intense interest. She knew he liked seeing her so obedient and ready to please. No, Hermione Granger being obedient was not something you saw every day.

When stood there, in the middle of the room in only her bra and panties but she started to feel hot. She knew what he referred to when he asked her to undress, so there was no getting out of this.

With trembling hands she unclasped her bra and discarded it on the floor, and afterwards she grabbed the hem of her panties pulling them down easily. Her socks followed and in a matter of seconds she was completely exposed to her.

He seemed to take a liking in the view.

"Get on the bed. Stay on your back."

She approached the bed and did as she was told her eyes searching for him.

He was still completely dressed, watching her in some interest.

"Open your legs, Hermione."

She suddenly started to feel too exposed for him to see. She wanted to pull a sheet over her but her body wouldn't let her.

He could see she was struggling with the order but did nothing whatsoever.

After a few seconds she did as she was told but he didn't seem content.

"Wider." His voice had gotten deeper; somehow you could sense the desire in it. Yet, he didn't do anything.

She did as she was told, spreading her legs wide, as she did many times before to accommodate him. She knew the exact length of his torso, the exact distance that should have been between her knees for him to fit perfectly in there.

Unfortunately, he had other plans.

"Touch yourself." He said with a hunger she never heard from him before.

Her eyes got bigger, wider with fear. She never did this before in front of anybody. She never thought she could do it but she was under Imperio and as much as she tried to fight it, she could not resist it.

Her left hand started traveling to her breasts, touching them lightly, as she wanted to be touched. When she reached her nipples she started pinching her rosy peaks lightly and a moan escaped her mouth.

He smiled.

"Lower." He said.

Her hands started going down to her abdomen, caressing herself with such dedication it almost seemed something she would do on a regular day.

When her hand left hand reached her pussy, her right hand was still stroking and pinching her nipple. She started by moving her hand slowly across her slit, but never going in. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter, especially when he was watching her so attentively. His eyes never left her; he was watching her movements with such interest. Yet, he never moved from his original spot.

"Don't go in. Rub circles around your clitoris."

She did as he told her. It was not like she had any power. As soon as she started doing as he told her, her back arched off the bed and she moaned loudly. She could feel the pleasure invading her body, yet, she knew she could not come, not yet.

She started moaning louder and louder and her breath became erratic. She liked it, she liked the pleasure. She liked how she was feeling but there was that nagging feeling that he was watching her. She turned her head to find her and there he was, immobile, smirking.

She could feel the pressure in her abdomen; she knew that if she continued to stroke herself she would come. It was just a matter of a few seconds and a few rubs.

"Stop!" He said, his voice extremely demanding.

And she stopped.

"Watch me." He added.

Soon, he started undressing himself, almost like a ritual. He first unbuttoned his black shirt tossing it on the floor. His black trousers followed and in a shift movement his boxers and socks.

He was already impossibly hard, is length stood proud, wanted to be touched. She felt her core was dripping with wetness. It was that moment.

Whilst looking into her eyes, he started stroking his shaft with long, perfect movements. His eyes closed for a second as he gaped but he continued stroking himself.

Her womanhood started pulsating with desire.

"Do you want it inside of you?" He asked her while stroking herself.

"Yes." She answered without thinking. Of course she wanted him inside, every woman would be mad to refuse such a god.

"Then suck it!" He said, as he pointed to his shaft.

As soon as he said that he lifted the Imperio. Hermione was feeling as a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders, but it seems that it made no difference anymore. She wanted him inside her, and she would do anything to have that.

She quickly got off the bed and reached him, putting herself onto her knees in front of him. He stood there, proud, unmoving, watching her.

She didn't really know how to do that, so she had to trust her instincts.

Taking his manhood into her hand, she started stoking him, feeling him into her small palm. She was rather large, she couldn't grasp all of him. The wetness in between her legs was getting more and more insistent and she realized that if she wanted him inside her, she would do what it needed to be done.

Slowly he guided her to her mouth, giving him a tentative lick on his slit. He groaned and she could feel himself tremble slightly under her touch. She gained more courage, and started by taking his head in her mouth, experimentally sucking on it when she felt another tremble going thought his body.

"Hermione…"

She understood what he wanted; she understood that her mouth felt heavenly around his shaft, that her warmness was round him so she started sucking onto him with her dear life.

After a few minutes of frenetically sucking him off, he no longer could do it. He was panting like mad and her pussy was wetter than it had ever been, and she needed him.

Slowly, he stopped her, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

She looked up expecting to see a perfectly composed Tom but instead he was sweating, trying to restrain himself.

His strong hands easily took her up and she jumped in his arms, her legs around him. He approached the bed, sitting on his back, Hermione being above him.

His eyes were black with lust and there was a need that she never saw before.

"Ride me, please!" He almost begged her.

She did as she was told, positioning herself above his pelvis, her legs spread wide. He grabbed himself and guided himself towards her and she lowered herself into him.

She was so warm and wet, she was paradise around him.

As soon as she felt him inside her, her muscles started trembling with anticipation.

She started riding him slowly at first, each movement offering a moan from both of them. He rested his hands on her bum, helping her move, guiding himself deeper and deeper.

After a few minutes or hours of lazily moving herself on top of him, she started arching more and more, being on the brink of explosion. He moaned loudly, feeling her muscles tightening around him but he grabbed her butt cheeks tighter moving her frenetically above him.

She screamed, her orgasm hitting her at least, and it was bliss. She felt boneless as she collapsed above him but he caught her and shifted them over, so that he was on top.

He started mercilessly pounding into her, frenetically moving.

A few moments later his orgasm hit him as he fell on top of her.

They could barely breathe their lids heavily.

In the aftermath of their illicit adventure, all that was going on in his mind was that "Yep, he loved her."

With her eyes half closed, she asked him:

"Was it really necessary? To use the Imperio Curse?"

"You would have never listened to me otherwise."

She smiled sleepily, and he nuzzled her neck with his nose.

"Well you are right. I suppose the bad temper is gone?"

"Most of it. You don't have to fight me all the time." He answered smiling.

"You don't have to insult me all the time."

"Well what about the mind blowing sex then? How are we supposed to have that?"

"I suppose you are right. We could also try to find other ways, you know." She responded, slightly irritated.

"And how are we supposed to have fun? You always get angry and that's one of the many reasons I…"

"Shh" she silenced him putting her finger above his lips." You don't have to say it all the time, I know it's hard." He just ignored her previous line.

"How did the meeting with Mr. Nott went?" He asked her while taking pleasure in poking her extremely sensitive nipples.

"Stop that… Merlin it's so ticklish" She started pulling away from him but she found an extremely strong arm around her waist.

"You didn't answer my question"

"It was amiable. He got what he deserved."

"I figured that much. We should take a shower. I think we have a party to attend, dear."

"Oh" Her mouth formed a huge O when she realized she totally forgot about Narcissa's party. Well, partly because of that. She just felt his hand travelling to her pussy and a finger deep inside her in a quick motion.

He took her again.

Later that evening, everybody was preparing for the party in their own fashion. Hermione had a quick shower with Tom and was extremely pleased when she saw a beautiful dress in their room, together with Tom's dress robes. Courtesy of Narcissa, of course.

They got ready in a lazy fashion, knowing that there was a whole night of pleasantries ahead of them.

As the clock struck 9 o'clock in the evening, everybody started gathering downstairs.

Hermione was looking gorgeous in her electric silk blue dress with little silver details on the straps. Her hair was up in an elegant bum, and the only jewelry she was wearing were two tear-shaped diamond earrings Narcissa insisted she kept.

Tom looked dashing in his muggle black tuxedo, looking as smug as imposing as ever. There was an understatement that he charmed everybody, since every follower could not resist to bow in front of him.

She slipped her silver Mary Janes, pocketed her wand and she was ready to go. Tom was struggling with his bow tie but every time she tried to help him he rewarded her with a look of hate.

Seemed the Dark Lord really wasn't the best at everything. Go figure.

They were late, they knew it, but she was content in watching Tom struggle with that tie. It was extremely funny how every time he tried to tie it, it turned into a complete mess that looked more like a flower than a bow tie.

After 15 long minutes of struggling he got so mad he incendio-ed it with no second thoughts. Seemed that the dark lord won't be wearing a tie tonight.

When he announced her they were ready to leave, he pocketed his wand also and they went to the Great Hall.

Yet, what they found there was not what they were expected.

Instead of greeting followers with a smile on their lips and ready to kiss Tom's ass they all looked kind of scared. Lucius approached him first.

"My lord, we seem to have some unexpected guests."

In the back of the wonderfully decorated ball room stood a group of 10 people, looking positively thrilled.

In the middle of them a blonde, beautiful woman dressed in red stood proudly. The woman took a step further.

"What a disrespectful gesture of you, Tom, to get the party started without us." Her voice was rusty, her Russian accent more obvious than ever.

"Caterina."

_Review if you like.I'm also sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes._


	21. Further away is somewhere near

**A.N. Sorry for the delay, I would be lying if I said I had been busy lately, just lazy. Also, not in the mood for writing. I am sorry for the mistakes in the chapter; I do not have the necessary strength to correct it after I write it, it kind of messes with the story line since I always feel the need to change something. Enjoy and please review!**

„So you put the thinner side over the other side and then you try and grab from the other side the smaller..."

„INCENDIO!"

It has been one hour and exactly fifteen minutes and thirty one seconds since Hermione Granger has been trying to teach the self-sufficient Lord Voldemort how to put on a tie.

In the glittering light, the remains of exactly the fourteenth tie were slowly floating around the Grand Hall of the Malfoy Manor. She first brought five ties to their encounter, figuring he will get mad enough to resort to uneasy ways of punishing his incapability. Still, after he Incendio-ed the fifth tie she knew this was a losing battle. So mudblood extraordinaire Granger, top of her class at Hogwarts, proclaimed to be the brightest witch of her time started transfiguring things into ties, since her lover did not seem to give up learning.

He said he would rather be dead than let a tie break him, but the tie seemed to have the upper hand here.

The truth was… the score was about 15-0 for the community of ties all over the world, but who was keeping the score?

"It seems the dexterity of your hands is only proven in the bedroom" Miss Granger remarked.

Tom Riddle Jr. was not going to give up, and he was not to be ridiculed by his girlfriend – did he just say _girlfriend_? No, she was a devil in disguise, that woman.

"Maybe I should prove to you what I can do with a wand, dearest." he replied, genuinely smiling.

"You should know, those threats will stop working one day…" she said, winking at him.

"Well then I should make out the best out of them while they still scare you. I have to go now to negotiate the treaty with Caterina. Now, please be a dear and please fix my tie." he replied while lazily sending a Crucio her way.

Merlin, she hated his mood swings.

Meanwhile, in another wing of the Malfoy Manor someone was carefully plotting the future. His breath filled with alcohol, with a drink in his hand and a whole bottle of firewhisky on the table, Draco Malfoy savored his midday drink.

He had his coffee with rum in the morning and it was only customary to have a glass of wine with lunch. It was time for the five o'clock tea.

"Riddle's going to turn us all into alcoholics before he finishes planning his perfect society" An unexpected face entered the room.

"I agree Pansy, I agree." Draco responded nodding her head, seeming thoughtful.

"Don't you find it odd that from all the women in this world, Riddle chose Granger?"

"Why would I? They are both brilliant and a little insane. A match made in hell, I'd say." The blonde man said, while taking another sip.

"Well, if I were to choose a mudblood I would choose the best out of them too, but I never quite got to understand the attraction between those two."

"What's there to understand, Pansy? They have met each other and I bet the pressure in the room grew with a few atmospheres. They stood there as long they could stand it and when they couldn't anymore, he took her."

"Is that your theory?" Pansy replied, smiling. She liked where this conversation was going.

"It's a common theory. Two opposites either attract or destroy each other in the process."

"It's lucky they felt attracted to each other, then. Or else, we would have all winded in the ground, decomposing. It is still a bit odd, how well they communicate with each other."

"They just got to understand their insanity together. I don't think they are telepathic, mind you." Pansy laughed it off.

Draco nodded as he poured himself another drink. Pansy just smiled and left the room. Something was amiss. If there was one thing Malfoys were to be proud of, that was their instinct. They knew what side to pick and they knew when to kiss what ass.

Until now, Draco was lacking that famous instinct but the moment Pansy left that room he understood that there was a plan.

Which plan he did not know yet but certainly it was connected to the blonde insufferable woman with an accent that inhabited their house.

"Mimsy." He called for the house elf.

The elf apparated with a pop, ready for orders.

"Summon my mother." The little creature nodded and within a few seconds Narcissa entered the room.

"We need to talk, mother."

"You felt it too?" Narcissa asked knowingly.

"Is it a family thing?" Draco asked.

"Yes, and I bet Lucius felt it too. Whenever something bad is about to happen we get this kick in our minds. We need link it to some event or person to discover the right course of action."

"It's related to Pansy. I felt it when she left the room. I am also positive she shares some connection with the Russian woman. They have a plan."

"Good job, Draco. We need to find out what is happening now. Go chase Pansy for a little bit, she has no idea we are onto her and she might as well get careless."

"I will, mother. And check on Hermione too. And call for Nott."

"Alright."

Narcissa left the room prouder than she had ever been for her son. She was finally seeing the man he was becoming. And it was quite a beautiful sight.

"Theodore Nott, your presence is requested at the Malfoy Manor immediately. Mrs. Malfoy wishes you to know that it is a matter of life and death."

Great. Yesterday he had survived an encounter to crazy Granger and now he had to go back to that damn place. Well, he admitted it was rather hot seeing her like that. Since she was out of his system now – crazy mudblood with a wand was quite a turnoff, his affections were directed towards someone else.

Narcissa Malfoy was waiting for him like a perfect lady, sipping from her tea and carelessly flipping through Witch Weekly. Yet, he could see something was wrong.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I can see something is wrong so you can give up the etiquette for a few moments."

She merely glanced at him smiling.

"Parkinson is planning something. Something unexpected and I have foreknowledge that you were associated with her a few weeks ago."

"We are merely friends. There is nothing to discuss since she is too self-centered to carry on with a plan."

"By all means, I think she found someone that does not agree with you."

"What did she do?"

"We do not know yet but it's related to Caterina. We need to put an end to it before it's too late." Narcissa stated, being an epitome of seriousness.

But as she was talking Theo Nott's mind left the subject and focused solely on that strand of perfect soft blond hair that was tucked carefully behind her ear. He could also hear and feel her breathing. Her perfect face with high cheekbones and plump rosy lips was the main focus now.

And before he could control himself he got closer and closer, feeling her scent take over his senses.

And also before he could restrain himself he grabbed her hard and closed the space between them.

And for lack of better words, it was magical.

Feeling her soft mouth responding to his kiss, although her hands were full of tension and were pushing him away.

"What do you think you are doing, young man?" A flustered Narcissa almost screamed at him. Almost, because ladies did not scream.

"Relinquishing the etiquette for a few moments. Mrs. Malfoy, would you please make me the honor of responding to my kiss?"

Theo Nott had no idea what had gotten into him, but it seemed to be working. Narcissa Malfoy responded passionately to his kiss, pushing him against a wall.

"Not here. The study. Now."

Caterina was a vicious person. When she was hurt she wanted to hurt back, twice as bad. She wanted to make her opponents suffer, she wanted them to cry and beg for their lives.

Hermione Granger made no exception.

She wanted to kill that bitch with her own hands, the muggle way – it was more satisfying.

The trap was perfectly in place, now all she had was to create a few diversions and they will all be at her feet.

Caterina had planned to abduct the little Granger girl and then make Tom do all her bidding.

It was a good plan, really.

The plan first came to her mind when she elegantly greeted her the other night and invited her to spend the nights in the Malfoy Manor.

She couldn't deny it; the girl had manners for a mudblood.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, they said.

Well, that was the plan.

She would lure the little girl into his study under false pretenses that he would meet her there. Who knew what thoughts will go through her mind then – maybe she thought Tom was in for a quickie in the study or maybe he would propose to her.

When the mudblood was out of the way for a few hours she had the time to blackmail Riddle into doing what she wanted.

At a first glance the plan was a flawed one, but now when she was adding an enraged and willing Pansy Parkinson in the equation.

That foul girl should have become an actor.

But enough with the plotting, Riddle was arriving.

Well, Tom always looked ravishing.

Today, Caterina did too. In a beautiful satin forest green dress that clung to all her curves heavenly.

Tom noticed, as he courtly saluted her.

"We are not here for a dance; we're here to discuss your arrival."

"What is there to discuss, I came!" She replied shamelessly.

Tom barely smirked but she could see it from the corner of her eye.

"I need to understand your reasons and your demands. I see that you did not come here alone."

"Well it was nice for you to notice that I have quite an army at my disposal." Caterina stated proudly.

"Even so, that is not the subject of our discussion. What do you want?"

"Always the diplomatic one, Tom. I know you won't risk an attack on the Malfoy Manor because of the fragile state of the post war politics."

"So we can both discard brute force. What do you want?" He asked.

"An easy question with an easier answer. To join you. And we cannot _both _discard brute force. I have the upper hand here, Voldemort."

It was the understatement of the century that Tom Riddle did not like to be manhandled. No, he wanted to be in control, as ever. If he wouldn't let Hermione have her little victories with him, he'd be damned if he would let Caterina.

"Since when are you interested in leaving Russia for these insufferable stuck up snobs that live in Britain?"

I am not coming here for them, I do it for you. And I have some assets you would be interested in."

"I can see that. Yet, you underestimate me, Caterina. What are your demands?"

"It's easy. I want to be your right hand. You future Bellatrix. I can see that it is quite a tradition that your second in command is always a woman."

"That seat is already taken. And even if I appreciate the cunning in your plan, I am not about to trust a woman who has tried to bring me down recently. Now, I am asking for the last time before I'm going to use violence. What do you want?"

"Simple as hell, darling. You."

He merely lifted an eyebrow and forced a smile.

"I never took you for a love sick , you will have to fight Hermione for that. She's quite a challenge, I assume. I never duel her because there would be too much repairing to do in the aftermath."

"Oh silly. I don't have to fight Hermione. I have Hermione."

Tom looked slightly taken aback. He took a moment to consider his thoughts and let out a good whole hearted laugh.

"You expect me to think you abducted Hermione?" He asked, still laughing. "You expect me to think you could ever touch her without her permission? Now I knew you are reckless, Caterina, but I never took you for an insane liar."

That was not the reaction she was hoping her. Might as well keep bluffing.

"Oh but not by myself, darling. I have a whole army at my disposal, or did you forget?"

In that precise moment, Pansy Parkinson walked in looking positively hurt. Her left cheek was bleeding and her clothes were torn apart. There was some heavy bruising on her arms and cleavage. She ran for her life towards Tom, screaming from the top of her lungs:

"Hermione… we cannot find Hermione… they are outside… th… they say they have her…"

Tom Riddle's face had gone from amused to stone blank. Then magic started pulsating stronger and stronger until he grabbed Caterina ripping her dress with such force he almost seemed a giant.

"What. Have. You . Done?"

Caterina merely smiled.

"She's safe, for now. Reconsider your position; you might do something reckless that might just hurt her." The blonde woman answered with a joyful face.

"What do you want?"

"I meant what I said earlier. A place in your ranks. Perhaps your bed."

If earlier Tom Riddle was out of character, now he looked positively defeated - but it only for a few moments. His mask carefully in place, he begun negotiating.

"You'd better tell me where she is before I turn you into dust."

Caterina just smiled.

Draco Malfoy walked the halls of the Malfoy Manor in search of Pansy. Merlin, he could really use that bloody map that Potter used in Hogwarts. You know, the one that pointed out where everybody was in that moment.

It also did not help that the Manor had four wings and countless bedrooms, not to mention the kitchens and guestrooms. He was in for a long search.

But luck came his way when she saw Parkinson closing the door to Voldemort's study. What an odd place to go to, he thought. She must be insane to go in there alone, but judging from the look on her face something in her plan just fell into place. Might as well find out what.

"Going somewhere, Pansy?" He asked.

"Oh, just heading home. Wanted to see if our lord is there to ask him about some estates in France." She seemed so genuine that Draco almost believed her.

"Oh, alright." Maybe he was wrong. But right in that moment he was willing to let it go, the instinct kicked in again.

"You're not going anywhere." He firmly stated.

"Excuse me?" She seemed surprised.

"You are not going anywhere until you are telling me what you are planning. I know, Pansy, there is no need to hide it from me."

"There is nothing you can do anyway." She turned around, smiling. Now this was the Pansy he knew. His first instinct was to petrify her and that was what he did. He tried the door but it did not open. Then he had the most nauseating feeling he had in his entire life.

Reversing the spell he decided for a quick interrogation.

"What is in there, Parkinson? Answer me now!" He demanded.

"There is nothing you can do!" She answered, smiling.

"Crucio!" He screamed and she tossed and turned on the ground, her bones cracking soundly.

It was the first time in his life he Crucio-ed someone at his own will. It felt invigorating.

"Tell me now or I'll Crucio you so hard your insanity will rival the Longbottoms."

"It's Hermione. I was supposed to keep her trapped for a few hours. She will be alright." Pansy answered, sobbing.

"You are as good as dead." Draco answered.

That instinct was kicking harder and harder.

Draco was never a faithful man. He was never faithful to his girlfriends, he was not that faithful to his family and to the legacy of Malfoy. But in that very moment, he felt he needed to protect the mudblood that turned his life into hell in Hogwarts. It was just compelling...

Hermione Granger thought she never depended on anybody. No, literally. She thought she was all alone in the world and everything and everyone else existed somewhere outside her bubble. She didn't need people to show her how to do certain things, she had her books.

She didn't need a boyfriend to tell her about love, she understood it by reading all those sappy love stories that she insisted they were for "her general knowledge".

She didn't need somebody to hold her hand because she could hold herself together, thank you very much. She could also understand every concept and if it was interesting enough she would memorize. Yet, nobody knew that she thought of herself of actually being better than everybody else. No, they just suspected it.

But when she didn't think she was better than everybody else she thought everybody else was better than her. Yes, Hermione Granger had her ups and downs; she could feel proud, happy and completely miserable all in the same hour.

Blame it on the hormones, some would say. But it was not the hormones; it was her whole being that was falling apart. There were a few things to do in days like that, but when she couldn't get away somewhere at the end of the earth and scream her lungs out, she had to put a beautiful smile upon her face and fake her way through the day.

But when she was on her way to apparate to Land's End, somewhere far away in Northern Britain to regain her senses Pansy Parkinson came informing her that Tom wanted a meeting with her in her study.

She complied thinking he only wanted to apologize for earlier. Which was ok by her since she only wanted to patch up things between them.

But as she entered the study she could feel the ancient magic trapping her there. Parkinson was nowhere to be seen. The door shut with a bang and in that moment she knew she walked into a scheme.

She was left alone in that room that a few days ago felt so welcoming. Tom's study would impress almost everybody by its seriousness and by the countless rows of books that were barely contained by the luxuriant bookshelves.

But Hermione Granger was not easily impressed, so she associated his study with the library at Hogwarts, and that was not necessarily the best thing.

Why?

Well, contrary to popular belief, Hermione Granger did not spent all the time in the library because she enjoyed reading books. Well, she did, but she did not read as much as some would assume. If she would have, her retinas would have been removed from her eyes ages ago.

No, the library was the only place secluded enough where she could be alone, where nobody could hear her. She didn't go there to cry, to scream or have meaningless rendezvous with Slytherins – she could number at least 10 Gryffindors that were sleeping with Draco Malfoy, all encounters heard and recorded in her brain forever. Firstly, because they screamed so loud the books were vibrating, and secondly because Draco Malfoy was the first boy she started to see as a man. Sometimes, late at night, she would hear him and a random girl making out and found herself wondering how she would feel under his weight. She repressed the thought quickly.

The library was the place where she could cast a silencing spell and stay there in the comfortable silence for how much time she needed.

Tom's study was dead silent, and that is where she wanted to be.

Because silence was the only thing comforting her when she had her episodes – which she later found out were related to the fact she couldn't master her occulmency and got trapped into her own mind.

She saw the signs weeks ago. She saw the resemblance to the first time she got trapped into her own mind and Tom rescued her. But she didn't do anything about it, why would she?

But they never thought that leaving her alone in that room would bring back so many repressed memories. They never thought her weakest point was such a mundane thing.

It was nothing worse in this world than to have Tom thinking she was weak.

Weak?

What was weak nowadays?

She didn't even have an answer to that. She has so much power now, she was powerful.

She was great; she was the brightest witch of her age.

She loved the most powerful man on this earth, and he loved her back.

She was not weak; she was perfect as she was now.

She was not weak; she was brilliant.

She was brilliant but she will always be dirty because of her blood.

She will always be a coward because she fell into the arms of the vilest man on this earth.

She will always be brilliantly weak and now she was on her third cut on her arm, deeply into the flesh and the veins.

She cut viciously, rapidly, not calculated – the way he would have done it.

She could almost hear him saying…

_Suicide is for weak people, Hermione._

It might be for weak people, but in days like these, she needed her space.

And she needed to get away from her own mind, as she kept cutting viciously into her skin.

She needed to get away from this place…

And as the blood was slowly but determinately leaving her body she felt as darkness was approaching. She felt better, she felt alone. She felt as if no one could ever touch her again, no one could make her hurt.

_Suicide is for weak people, Hermione._

She didn't give a damn that they called her weak.

_Suicide is for weak people, Hermione._

She only cared to get away from the monster she had become.


End file.
